Take Me with You! by Steven Rowley****

This was a fun one! Steven Rowley, author of The Guncle, has another hit with Take Me with You, a story of supernatural occurrences, abandonment, and grief. I realize that doesn’t sound much like a fun read, but bear with me here. My thanks go to NetGalley and Putnam for the review copy; this book is for sale now.

Jesse del Ruth is a middle-aged college professor; he and his slightly older husband, Norman, have been together now for 30 years. But they’ve settled into a bit of a rut, bickering about stupid things. Nevertheless, Jesse is stunned when, one evening, Norman mutters “I’m out of here” and steps out into a bright light that’s shining from above their desert home; the light literally beams him up, leaving poor Jesse gaping, full of questions that Norman cannot answer. To make matters worse, he’s forced to lie to friends and family, because he really can’t just tell them that Norman left in a UFO.

This is a story that’s easy to read, making it perfect bedtime material. It proceeds in linear fashion without a great deal of jumping around, and it has just a few characters; we meet Norman’s younger sister, who really needs to talk to him, and we also meet the neighbor across the street, who would ordinarily be the strange one. But at least 85% of this odd little novel hinges on Jesse, and Rowley develops him quite nicely. We have a bit of a retrospective, looking back with Jesse at their past life together and the crises—really, just one crisis—that impacts their relationship. And we see Jesse pull himself together as “we” becomes “I”.

They say that every story has already been written, and after reading this one, I’d have to question that assertion. Yes, there are many stories of lovers separating, or of one partner leaving the other, but…not this way, guys. Rowley takes us through all of life’s emotional seasons, from love, to contentment, to disappointment, to grief and rage, to acceptance and adjusting to a single life. And there are several places where I laughed out loud!

I recommend this as a terrific little book to take on vacation, or just to curl up with over a long weekend at home.

Road Trip, by Mary Kay Andrews***-****

3.5 stars rounded upwards.

Road Trip is a new spring romcom novel by prolific author Mary Kay Andrews. My thanks go to NetGalley, St. Martin’s Press, and Macmillan Audio for the invitation to read and review. This book will be available to the public June 2, 2026.

The premise is that two sisters must bury their late mother and deal with her estate. Maeve is the good girl who put her life on hold to care for their mother during her final illness; Therese is an actor, and hasn’t even called home for a good long time. The sisters have become estranged over the years, but now they are back in the home they grew up in. Their mother left behind a painting that she says was done by a famous artist, and should be worth a great deal, but to establish its origin and its worth, they must go on a road trip in Ireland together. In fact, neither of them gets a dime if they don’t! She’s left them very little but the painting itself and some travel money. They aren’t happy about it, but they go.

The first half of this story just about wore me to bits. It seemed formulaic, and I felt like my IQ became lower with every tiresome page. The effect was heightened by the narrator, Kathleen McInerney, whose high-pitched little girl voice grated on me. I reminded myself that I’ve encountered this narrator before while reading the same author, and I eventually got used to her voice, and so I soldiered on, vowing to finish this thing, write my review, and stay away from this author in the future unless I was reading her Christmas novels, which always please me. I promised myself that next time, I’d only use the digital review copy, thereby bypassing the narrator.

But then a funny thing happened in the second half. Gradually I found myself warming to the story—and yes, I became more acclimated to the narrator as well. By the seventy percent mark, I was actively looking forward to it. And this is the reason why I have rounded my rating upwards; I would much rather have a book start out a bit slow and build to something bigger, than to have it start out like gangbusters and then fizzle later on.

I suspect that the author’s faithful readers will like this book just as much as her others; for those not previously initiated, you may enjoy this if you need something on the light and breezy side. It is to those readers that I recommend this story.

Black Bag, by Luke Kennard***-****

In this bizarre little story, an out-of-work actor accepts a position with a psychology professor. The gig is to wear a big black leather bag from his calves clear over the top of his head, and not talk to anyone. The experience leads to unexpected developments.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Zando for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

Possibly the oddest thing of all is that we are never given a name for our protagonist, so I will call him Our Actor. Our Actor answers the advertisement and is intrigued by the proposition; he’s even more intrigued by the promise of fast cash. He’s been avoiding his landlady, and his food supply is about to run out. And the job is an easy one: all he has to do is wear the bag and be quiet. He is to show up at a particular class the professor is teaching, and not communicate in any way with the students or anybody else. No words, no shrugs, no noises of any kind. The professor then observes how the students respond to the bag person (my term, not Kinnard’s.)

A secondary thread appears when another professor taps him for her research on sexuality. His job for her is to show up in her office when he is on campus, but not needed by the first prof, and during hours she’ll be there. He goes to her office, where they have sort-of sex without him removing the bag. She doesn’t want to see him outside of his bag, ever. The whole business turns pitiful when he decides he’s in love with her; she, in turn, tends to forget he’s an actual human being in there. I don’t much like this aspect of the story, but it serves the purpose of demonstrating just exactly how alienated from real life this poor schmuck is. In fact, the whole story is one of great loneliness and alienation.

The middle of the book is slow. There’s a fair amount of repetition; the most interesting occurrence is when Our Actor’s best (and possibly only) friend, who is an influencer, decides there’s a way to monetize the whole Black Bag experience. I think that I have identified the problem that will result from this decision, but I am mistaken. I can’t guess where Kennard is going.

The second half of the book is much better than the first, which is why I round my rating upwards. By the 25% mark, I am counting both the remaining pages and my regrets, but shortly after the halfway mark, the thing picks up steam and then I have to know how it shakes out, not just for the sake of an honest and informed review, but for myself.

Also interesting is the author’s note, which explains that the novel is based on a true story! *What?*

For those in the mood for something different, this brief little book may be just what you’re looking for.

The Red Queen, by Martha Grimes**

What a shame. I was initially delighted to see a new installment of this long running series, but something has gone badly wrong here. Nevertheless, my thanks go to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

The Richard Jury series was wildly successful for decades; I first began reading it in the 1990s. I was pleased to see the familiar characters, particularly Wiggins, the hypochondriacal assistant to our protagonist, as well as Jury’s friend Melrose Plant—with a brief showing of Plant’s domineering and pretentious Aunt Agatha—and Cyril the Cat, the feline that makes Jury’s boss apoplectic, yet is never truly banished. And that’s about all of the joy I found here at all.

Was there an editor involved at any point in this process? Because it sure doesn’t look like it. What a miserable jumble of elements. I couldn’t tell who was coming and who was going. At first I thought it might just be me, so I backtracked, but…nope.

I had access to an audio galley, and if there had been anything here to save, the reader probably could have done it, but the reader couldn’t rewrite the book.

Diehard fans, stay away from this thing. It will break your heart.

A Good Person, by Kirsten King***

A Good Person is the debut novel of Kirsten King. This is one of those rare times when I decide to read a book based largely on the cover. My thanks go to NetGalley and Putnam for the review copy; this book will be available to the public March 31, 2026.

Lillian is lonesome. She has few friends and no love life. When she spies Henry in a coffee shop, she decides to change all of that, and she propositions him; from there develops a relationship that Lillian’s friend Jamie regards as a “situationship,” meaning a hook-up situation, but Lillian is determined will become true love.

That’s not really how it shakes out, though.

The thing about Lillian is that she’s abrasive. In fact, she’s a walking, talking ball of snark and negativity. She doesn’t like most people, and they feel the same about her. But when Henry says he doesn’t want to see her anymore, she does and says rash things, and unfortunately, some of it unfolds on social media. When Henry is found dead, she is an immediate suspect. And while I find Lillian to be about as toxic a main character as I’ve found in many years, I can’t help but root for her to be exonerated, because whatever else she is, I am certain she’s no killer.

Because of the hilarious looking cover, I expect this book to be humorous in a dark sort of way, but I am mistaken. In fact, it proves to be darker than I am up for. A little more than halfway in, I find myself counting the pages. The ending has an interesting twist to it, and King has crafted a credible anti-hero. The narrative unfolds in the first person, and that makes it darker still. Foreshadowing is deft and in just the right amount.  But while there are some nice moments, I can’t say I enjoy this novel, nor can I recommend it.

Jigsaw, by Jonathan Kellerman****

Can you think of a mystery series that is as long running and reliably entertaining as the Alex Delaware series, by Jonathan Kellerman? This is his 41st, and it’s going strong. My thanks go to NetGalley and Ballantine Books for the review copy. This book will be available to the public February 3, 2026.

After so many installments, the regular characters in this series feel like old friends. When homicide detective Milo Sturgis careens into the kitchen of his longtime bestie, Dr. Alex Delaware and raids the fridge like a huge, gay version of Dagwood Bumstead, I can’t help smiling. Milo, Alex, it’s good seeing you again! Most episodes begin this way. Unlike many well-established series, however, we don’t take a great deal of time for character development, because there are three murders here and they cannot wait!

The first appears to be obvious; a young woman is found murdered in her home, and the cigarette butts nearby bear the DNA of her boyfriend. But it’s not as it seems. Next, an elderly woman—a former cop—is missing, and a welfare check finds her dead, dismembered, in her freezer. Yikes! The chief suspect, her developmentally disabled daughter, is later also found dead. And the woman in the freezer is a colleague, known to Milo.

The interesting part about this one is that the victim, the former cop, is a hoarder. Who knew? Nothing about her suggested that her home would be jammed full of trash, but here we are. Piles of newspaper, food wrappers, mouse droppings, paper sacks full of money, magazines…more bags full of money…

Huh?

Like all of the books in this series, this is a quick read. Partly that’s because it’s fast paced and interesting, and partly it’s because it’s chock full of snappy dialogue. Whereas I miss the humor that is frequently injected into these stories, I appreciate the trend away from the twisted sexual situations that appeared for a few years. All told, this is an excellent entry into a series that has never failed to engage me, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to you.

Bad Asians, by Lillian Li**-***

Lillian Li is the author of Number One Chinese Restaurant (2018), a tale of sibling rivalry and complex family issues that was in turns suspenseful and hilarious. It was, and remains, one of my all-time favorites from 14 years of reviewing, and because of it, I have followed Li on every possible site, waiting to pounce whenever her next novel became available. And perhaps this oversized expectation has fed into my disappointment this time around. Bad Asians is not a dreadful book, but it’s not close to being on par with that first magnificent novel.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Henry Holt for the invitation to read and review. This book will be available to the public February 17, 2026.

Bad Asians tells the story of four young Chinese-Americans who finish college, yet find the American dream they’ve been expecting is still nowhere in sight. Then an old classmate named Grace returns to the neighborhood. Grace had the keys to the kingdom growing up; she had the fanciest house by far, the nicest clothes, and was a source of awe for all of them. Grace seemed to have it made. Now she’s back, and she wants to feature the four of them in her documentary. They agree, albeit without great expectations; the movie will most likely never see the light of day, they figure. Instead, it goes viral on a streaming platform, and it shows all of them as caricatures of their worst selves. They are recognized on the street; they are mocked.

Grace, meanwhile, is in dire financial straits herself; she appeared to have it made, yet that was an illusion.

For some reason, the narrative doesn’t flow as cleanly as Li’s last one, and the frequent changes of setting, both in time and place, are a fair amount of work to follow. I had access to both the digital and audio versions, and whereas the narrator does a decent job, I find myself wondering whether I would have been more successful in keeping track of the story’s many moving parts if I had stuck to the digital version alone. Had I been excited about its potential, I might have backtracked and tried reading it again, but I wasn’t and didn’t—although I did reread small portions of it.

I am probably not within the targeted demographic, since I am not young and not Asian; yet one feature grates on my sensibilities throughout it, and that is the treatment of “Asian-American” and “Chinese-American” as synonyms. It’s true that all of the protagonists are of Chinese origin, but at some point, I would like to have seen recognition that there are other Asian-Americans. Yes, all Chinese-Americans are Asian-Americans, but the reverse is not true, and though I’ve tried to set it aside, I can’t get past the apparent assumption that Americans of Filipino, Japanese, Korean, or Pacific Island heritage—not to even mention many more that hail from other regions of Asia– are irrelevant.

I can’t recommend this novel to you, although I will still happily read Li’s next book. She did it once, and I believe that she can do it again, but this isn’t it.

Vigil, by George Saunders*****

George Saunders is a luminary in the world of literary fiction. His latest novel, Vigil, tells the story of Jill Blaine, also called “Doll,” a formerly alive person who’s now tasked with escorting dying souls on Earth to their next destination.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House for the review copy. This book will be available to the public January 27, 2026.

Ms. Blaine, our protagonist, has been tapped hundreds of times to transition the dying to their next stop, but this time it’s different. Others needed to be comforted and consoled; KJ Boone, however, does not. He’s an oil company executive that has oh, so much for which to atone, but he doesn’t see it that way. Boone has more self-esteem, more rampant self-regard, than almost anyone else on the planet. So, in one sense, Blaine isn’t really needed, and yet she is.

Saunders writes some of the most whimsical prose I’ve read anywhere. This novel isn’t getting as much love from some other reviewers, and when I read what they have to say, a bit puzzled by the lukewarm responses, I see why. Saunders has written other books, in particular, two other massively successful novels, Lincoln in the Bardo and Tenth of December.  To reviewers that read and loved either of these, that is the standard to which he will forever be held. I have no such outsized yardstick by which to measure this writer. Both of those books are in my queue, but I haven’t read a word of either one yet, so I measure his novels by the same yardstick as I use for every other author, and frankly, that seems fairer to me.

Therefore, when Jill Blaine plummets to Earth headfirst and sinks nearly to her waist in the dirt, feet sticking up, then has to pull herself back out, I read it and laugh like hell.

I won’t give any of the plot away; this is a short book, after all, and you deserve to be surprised by everything that takes place inside it. However, in addition to its original and vast humor, the story examines some philosophical questions. What do we owe the world and its people? What is chosen, and what is inevitable? Humor is a great way to explore these issues, because we are confronted with them while we’re in a relaxed state; we don’t become defensive before a question is even asked.

Highly recommended to those that love fantasy and philosophy and can use a good, hearty laugh.

100 Rules for Living to 100, by Dick Van Dyke****

Version 1.0.0

Dick Van Dyke was a wonderful part of my childhood, and this lovely audiobook has put a little more bounce in my step. It’s not really about rules, of course, but the format is a perfect scaffold for a combination memoir and self-help book. My thanks go to NetGalley and Grand Central Publishing for the review copy; this book is for sale now.

Van Dyke entered my consciousness when I was a kindergartener, and the original movie Mary Poppins brought droves of families to theaters. I was not the only family member that was entranced, and all of us sang along to the sound track once the record was on our stereo turntable. The movie, and its lead characters, played by Julie Andrews and Van Dyke, glowed with humor and optimism.  What a wonderful message to share, the idea that the best we can give our children is our time and our attention. In the early 1960s, the suggestion that adults ought to listen to children was ahead of its time and much needed.

Many of the anecdotes the author conveys have to do with experiences shared between him and Arlene, his current wife. Despite the May-December romance, it sounds like a wonderful union. He talks about the recent and horrific events with the Santa Ana fires that took the homes of so many—though his own was spared. My favorite parts, though, are the ones in which he discusses the future roles he’d like to play, because he isn’t really retired from the industry. Way to go, Dick!

Reader Tom Bergeron does a nice job, and as a bonus, he sounds quite a bit like the author.

I recommend this little gem to everyone that could use some positive energy, and to all that love the author.

The Note, by Alafair Burke**

The Note by Alafair Burke is a thriller that sends three lifelong female friends on a gal pal vacation together; they have skeletons in their closets, scandals from their pasts, and that’s part of the bond. But try though I might, I couldn’t bond with any of them or care about their dilemmas.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Knopf Publishers for the review copy. This book is available now.

The internal narrative was so flaccid that I kept having to go back to reread parts of it, because I realized that I’d zoned out while reading and had no idea what had just happened. Once I had the plot straight, I struggled to recall the names of all three women. (Kelsey, May, and…?)  These characters struck me, when they struck me at all, as vapid and self-absorbed. The dialogue seemed banal.

When I saw in the promotional blurb that these three women would be vacationing together in The Hamptons, it gave me pause. I don’t like reading about rich people, and with a rare exception now and then, I don’t like rich people, period. But there have been a number of times that a terrific novelist has made me forget all about my no-no list, so I crossed my fingers. I’d read one other of Burke’s novels and it was pretty good, so I thought I’d give this one a go; it was a mistake.

I’m trying to think of a saving grace, some positive aspect that I can insert here in order to keep this review from being brutal, but honesty, I come up dry. I cannot recommend this book to you.