Favorite Quote:

 

Adrian had discovered that back in King James VI’s day, North Berwick had been the site of one of the countries largest witch hunts. Somewhere between seventy and two hundred witches had been executed. That figure had astounded him. He was amazed there was that many residents back in the fifteen hundreds, let alone witches.

 

My Review:

 

I don’t often read this genre but I made an exception for one of my favorite authors who had the notion to dabble with something new. This novella was expertly paced and had me transfixed to my Kindle while the creepiness factor steadily ratcheted up. I was squirming, and for good measure, not only was it creepy but given Tracie Podger’s skillful handling, it was hot as hell. Oh my, clutch the pearls! My brain and my gusset were both on fire.

Meet Me On Love Lane
(Hopeless Romantics #2)
by Nina Bocci

About the Author

Nina Bocci is a USA TODAY bestselling novelist who loves reading and writing about swoony, relatable heroes and smart, witty heroines. If it’s set in a small town, even better. You can always find her chatting on social media about her massive, crazy Italian family, and her favorite person in the world, her son.

On the Corner of Love and Hate
(Hopeless Romantics #1)
by Nina Bocci 

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

Dating is like shopping the clearance racks: you sift through a lot of pretty yet questionable items in the hope of lucking out and finding that one perfect outfit. The same could be said about the men I’d been with lately.

 

EMMA THOUGHT: For a hopeless romantic, you’re awfully hopeless.

 

Anytime I was alone with him, which was why I actively avoided it, I was transported back to that eleven-year-old girl who realized that the belly flutters she got when he walked in wasn’t a lactose allergy but her first full-blown crush. At twenty-eight, those feelings didn’t remain, but the reminder of what they felt like did.

 

Kirby Rogers reminded me of how movies in the seventies depicted used-car salesmen: swarmy, cocky, and dressed in a suit that was too big, as if he were trying to fill the loose fabric with fake confidence. Plus he had a ridiculous comb-over that you could probably spot from space.

 

Henry was one of those guys men wanted to try to arm wrestle and women just straight-up wanted, but he was content with being everyone’s friend.

 

I saw the girlfriend with him the other night at dinner— that girl can freeze ice on her backside. Why is she so serious?

 

My Review:

 

This was wicked funny I fell right into this observantly amusing and insightfully written tale which was shot through with clever wit and snarky levity. I loved it, adored it, reveled in it, smirked my way through it, and am now totally enamored with the talented Nina Bocci.

About the Author

 The Kill Club
by Wendy Heard

 

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

“Okay,” I say, and in that one word is contained an ocean of acceptance. This is where I am. This is what I’m doing.

I think about what the reporter said, that the people who have been killed have had records of stalking, domestic violence. It actually sounds like the voice on the phone is who they say they are. They invented a serial killer. The police are searching LA for a murderer that doesn’t exist.

I don’t know how I feel about this, morally. Is it bad to kill someone like Carol? Does she deserve the death sentence? Do I have any feelings about her being dead? … I remember the guy I saw die at Villains. I heard him scream. It’s definitely not painless. But then I remember Carol with her baseball bat crunching through my bones like glass, and I think, Good.

How is she so put-together at six in the morning? When I work early shifts at Trader Joe’s, I look like an orphan in a Christmas movie.

 

My Review:

 

This book was devilishly clever and fiendishly addictive, I was taut with tension and unable to put my Kindle down without deeply resenting the intrusion to my reading. The main character of Jasmine was deeply flawed and horribly unlucky, and though well-intentioned she was a total screw up in every arena. I cringed for her while simultaneously wanting to give her a smack to the back of the head. The storylines were highly active, heartbreaking, twisted, brutal, gripping, and fraught with tension with unexpected and greatly welcomed glints of snarky levity and sharply edged wit. This was my first exposure to the cunning storytelling of Wendy Heard and I was an instant fangirl, I greedily want to amass all her clever words.

About the Author

Why She Ran
by Geraldine Hogan

Amazon US / UK / CA / AU

B&N / Apple / Kobo / GP

 

‘Rachel. They must have made a mistake. A mother would know?’ She let her words pour into the emptiness of the kitchen. She began to shiver. ‘I can’t feel anything,’ she said softly and rocked back and forth, as if she was a huge child, seeking solace in the simple gesture.

When young, pretty nurse Rachel McDermott is found murdered in the harsh lights of the hospital kitchen where she works, her mother can’t accept the news, and the small Irish town of Corbally reels in disbelief. Rushing to the scene, Detective Iris Locke vows to find the sick killer, whatever it takes.

The last person to see Rachel alive was her close friend, sixteen-year-old Eleanor Marshall, a troubled teenager, estranged from her family. Eleanor was spotted fleeing the kitchen where Rachel’s body was found and becomes the main suspect. Iris has a search party combing the endless woods near the Comeragh mountains where they believe she is hiding. But Iris is consumed with worry for the vulnerable girl and can’t shake a prickly disquiet that Eleanor shouldn’t be a suspect.

Eleanor’s sister agrees but a day later, when she is found dead in the area Eleanor is hiding, things don’t look good for the runaway teen. Iris can’t see Eleanor, who still sleeps with her childhood teddy bear, as someone who would kill her little sister and her best friend, but all the evidence seems to point that way.

Sleep-deprived and desperate to find the truth, Iris takes a closer look into Rachel’s background and discovers that she was keeping strange, shadowy company the night before she died. Convinced that Eleanor is in terrible danger, Iris sets out to find her, in the icy-cold woods, alone. But what if somebody else makes their way through the darkness and reaches Iris and Eleanor first?

This gripping mystery thriller is perfect for fans of Carol Wyer, Robert Dugoni and LJ Ross.

About the author

Geraldine Hogan was born in Ireland. She gained an Honors Degree in English Literature and Psychology from Dublin City University and a Postgraduate Degree in Training and Management from University College, Galway. She is an Irish award-winning and bestselling author of four contemporary fiction novels under the pen name Faith Hogan.

Silent Night is her first crime novel, her second is due out in December 2019.

She is currently working on her next novel. She lives in the west of Ireland with her husband, four children, and a very busy Labrador named Penny. She’s a writer, reader, enthusiastic dog walker, and reluctant jogger – except of course when it is raining!

 

You can find out more about Geraldine here:
Facebook
Twitter @gerhogan
https://www.instagram.com/faithhoganauthor/

 

THE GLITTERING HOUR

by Iona Grey

 

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

Blackwood Park was full of ghosts. Its empty corridors echoed with the whispers of lost voices and snatches of old laughter. It was a house where the past felt more vivid than the present, which was nothing more than a stretch of endless days fading into uniform blankness.

 

… there was a bowl of paperwhite daffodils on the table by her armchair. Their delicate perfume was fresh in a room that smelled of stopped clocks and old paper.

 

I resented the rules and restrictions and the rigidness … The hypocrisy and control… Their favourite punishment was to withhold food, and I resented being sent to bed hungry while downstairs seven courses were being served in the dining room and people were only picking at each of them. And the more resentful I was the naughtier I became and the more I was punished… I spent my childhood feeling permanently ravenous.

 

Don’t you be shy about ringing the bell or going down to find her if it doesn’t appear –she’s got a head like a sieve, that one. Not that I imagine she’ll have much time for daydreaming today. Miss Lovelock’s had her up and down like a fiddler’s elbow already this morning, fetching tea and toast and hot water cans and whatnot.

 

‘Someone once told me that a woman’s body is like a piano. It’s up to the man whether he chooses to pick out a nursery rhyme with one finger, or learn how to play a symphony. I suppose that was the first movement’… ‘I’m terribly ignorant about culture,’ she whispered. ‘Remind me – how many movements are there in a symphony?’

 

Secrets and half-truths seemed to swirl through the corridors on icy currents of air.

 

 My Review:

 

This was a feast of a book. The Glittering Hour was thoughtfully written and cunningly insightful as well as shrewdly observant. It was a slowly evolving and highly emotive story that was skillfully crafted and elegantly told, and I absorbed it as if it were being injected straight into my gray matter while vivid imagery flickered behind my eyes. There were four-hundred-eighty beautifully written pages and I read them ever so slowly as I wanted to savor each perfectly chosen word, even though the storylines turned me inside out, stung my eyes, pinched my heart, and put hot rocks in my throat. Iona Grey is found treasure and a new addition at the very top of my list of favorite authors.

 

Working for a department store where Christmas arrives in August, Eve prefers her own festivities to be low key with nothing more complicated than an oven-ready turkey and frozen peas while she spends the day in her pajamas. Unfortunately, this year her husband has invited his best friend to visit, the glamorous and sophisticated Abby, and Eve reluctantly decides that she needs to inject a little sparkle into their laid back and slightly shabby Christmas. So the celebrations are upgraded to include champagne and canapes along with homemade gravy and organic turkey and plans are made for a Christmas that looks as though it has emerged from the pages of a glossy magazine.

But even the best-laid plans can go wrong and as Eve struggles with her mini Yorkshire puddings and an interfering cat, she is suddenly faced with an unexpected guest and an explosive secret that threatens to put her vision of a perfect Christmas in jeopardy.

 

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

‘She is nice. Most of the time. But that’s not the point!’ Eve wailed. ‘I’ve worked so hard planning for this Christmas and she’s turned up like Mary Poppins with a bag full of magic!’

 

Eve was actually superfluous to requirements, which strangely was how she often felt in the company of Abby.

 

… the masses of beautiful deep green and red berry foliage on her kitchen windowsill had been pushed aside by an indignant cat who liked to sit there to clean his whiskers. Looking at her watch, Eve decided that keeping on top of her beautifully decorated home was becoming a full-time task and she was already starting to slip behind her schedule…

 

There was still a slightly strange smell in the kitchen, a combination of hot chocolate, cat vomit, and the oven sending out wafts of warm air. Eve decided she would ignore it. Hopefully, the delicious smell of her buffet would soon overcome the current slightly rancid smell.

 

I suggest you make it clear to him my darling. And sort your head out… Slap him, don’t feed him for a week but for goodness sake Eve, forgive him…

  

My Review:

 

I gleefully snorted and even barked aloud a few times as I read this delightfully amusing corker of a tale. This is the fourth Julie Butterfield book I have picked up and each one has been unfailingly engaging, crisply written, and laced with clever wit as well as colorful insights that call forth vivid imagery.   I wore a smile the majority of the time I spent with the besieged, beleaguered, and slightly demented Eve; although I will confess, she behaved much better than I would have in her shoes