In turn-of-the-century New York, a mobster rises—and his favorite sister struggles between loyalty and life itself. How far will she go when he commits murder?

After midnight, Thelma Lorber enters her brother Abie’s hangout under the Williamsburg Bridge, finding Jewish mobster Louis “Pretty” Amberg in a puddle of blood on the kitchen floor. She could flee. Instead, in the dark hours of that October 1935 night before the dawn of Murder, Inc., she remains beside the fierce, funny brother who has nurtured and protected her since childhood. There are many kinds of love a woman can feel for a man, but few compare to that of the baby sister for her older brother. For Thelma, a wild widow tethered to a young son, Abie is the center of her world. But that love is about to undo everything she holds dear…

Flipping the familiar script of The Sopranos, Boardwalk Empire, and The Godfather, Bittersweet Brooklyn explores the shattering impact of mob violence on the women expected to mop up the mess. Winding its way over decades, this haunting family saga plunges readers into a dangerous past—revealed through the perspective of a forgotten yet vibrant woman.

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

His response to those who disliked or disrespected him was schmuck. It was his favorite Yiddish word in a language that contained more bendy terms for shaming and cursing than the Eskimos had for snow.

There’s nothing wrong with those gams, little sister. You got the magic leg. You step off a curb and shake it, and the Prince of Wales is going to stop his carriage.

It aggravated her that Annie could nurture Julius, Adele, and Eli and, with a swivel of her head, spew dragon fire toward Thelma.

Vulnerability had been a dangerous condition around Annie and Mama as they carped on the physiques of the people strolling past, laughing at this one’s little pecker visible in swim trunks too small, that one’s jiggling fat rolls as she lunged for a rogue rubber ball. Meeskait, they’d pronounce, little ugly one. What a tuchus, they’d say and point at someone with a seat that could fill a subway car. And yet, the pair hadn’t been bathing beauties, either: the walrus and the sea lion. Mama covered in a floral muumuu and Annie squeezed like a sausage into a swimsuit one size too small, revealing back fat that she didn’t notice from the front, impressed by her own cleavage.

My Review:

I marveled at the sublime storytelling and writing quality, even though the story was taut with tension and full of heartbreaking scenes and emotive insights that gutted me as I read, I couldn’t seem to put it down. I passionately despised the useless mother and heinous sister – they were atrocious creatures, yet expertly crafted.   Every character was well-nuanced, cunningly detailed, and compellingly complex. The storylines were intriguing, shrewdly paced, and hit all the feels with occasional lashings of clever levity that had me laughing aloud.   Thelma Adams’s word voodoo is strong; I was appalled, riveted, mesmerized, and totally engaged. She turned me inside out with this one – yet I regret nothing.

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