My Name is Emilia del Valle, by Isabel Allende****

“Aren’t you afraid, Angelita?’ I asked her. ‘All the time, but I don’t think about it. I want to die with my boots on my feet,’ she answered…

“I did not know who I truly was until circumstances put me to the test.”

My Name is Emilia del Valle is the newest novel published by feminist icon and author Isabel Allende. The story is a fictionalized account of a journalist that travels from California to Chile, where war has broken out. Because she is a woman, her editor resists sending her, and then, under pressure, agrees that she may go, but only to cover human interest stories in the city. Those that have read any book ever by Allende will know instantly that this is not what our journalist does.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House Ballantine for the invitation to read and review. This book is available for sale now.

Like all of Allende’s protagonists, Emilia is a woman that refuses to be constrained by the expectations of the time regarding gender. She is possessed of feverish curiosity, and once she finds herself in the thick of the conflict, she has no interest whatsoever in finding and maintaining a safe, distant place from which to report. She assists the “canteen girls,” who provide water to fallen soldiers, along with minor first aid. Emilia learns first hand about the horrors of war, and she is forever changed by it.

This conflict is one that isn’t widely reported, and Allende writes about it so that it may not be forgotten. Ten thousand died here, mostly men from poor families, killed for no good reason. Emilia’s experiences highlight the disparity in treatment according to social class and wealth, as well as gender.

The writing is first rate as always. However, in most of her earlier novels, the author found a way to intersperse shocking or horrific passages with some that were uplifting, and often very funny. I would bark with sudden laughter at some witticism that I had not seen coming. I wish she had done that here. When there’s too much horror and bloodshed, it is tempting, natural even, for readers to tune out, let the words wash over us. And while there is romance here that provides some relief, I would have liked more.

Nevertheless, those that love historical fiction, social justice, feminism, and especially those that love Allende’s writing will want to read this book.

In the Time of Five Pumpkins, by Alexander McCall Smith*****

In the Time of Five Pumpkins is the 26th installment of the #1 Ladies’ Detective Agency mysteries by Alexander McCall Smith. This is hands down my favorite cozy series, and it may very well be my favorite series, period. Precious Ramotswe is our chief protagonist and owner of the business, and her easy-going manner with others and her capacity to smooth over a difficult situation are a breath of fresh air. Of course, Precious is fictional, but she feels real to me. I feel as if I have known her for decades, which in the literary sense, I have. My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

As with all of my best loved, long-running mystery series, the joy of reading is only partly to do with the mystery. In fact, I almost think Smith could forget to include a mystery and I might take a good long while to notice; I enjoy greeting the continuing characters that I haven’t seen in some time. Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni, who is married to Precious and runs a garage in the same building where Precious has her office; Mma Potokwane, Precious’s “traditionally built” best friend, who runs an orphanage and always has fruitcake ready when Precious visits; Charlie, the formerly bumbling mechanic who is shaping up nicely as a part time detective trainee; and of course, Mma Makutsi:

Employees who leave it to their employers to promote them may have a long time to wait, but this was not the fate of Mma Makutsi. She had somehow managed to promote herself, first to the role of senior secretary, then without discussing the matter with Mma Ramotswe, to assistant detective, associate detective, associate director, co-director and so on, to the position she had most recently chosen for herself—executive president for development. This was a novel description and had rather puzzled Mma Ramotswe.

Passages such as this one leave me gasping! How many of us, in a similar situation, would allow someone that we had hired to give herself such exalted titles? It’s both bizarre and preposterous. But there’s never a question of salary; no matter what she calls herself, Mma Makutsi makes the same money as before, and no one here is making very much.

The stories usually have more than one thread, and so it is with this one. A woman arrives from the States to meet someone that turned up in her ancestry search, and the agency is hired to help her find them. At the same time, another case involving marital problems, though not the usual sort, is presented. And a third thread has to do with a shady character that has befriended Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. Before all is said and done, Charlie has a “Clovis Anderson moment,” which has been a long time coming, and J.L.B. Matekoni saves his creepy new friend from a “government crocodile.”

This is a series that never gets old, and perhaps because the excitement is ramped up just a tick in this one—not too much, we do want to keep it cozy, after all—it may be my favorite so far. Highly recommended to all that love the genre.

Over Yonder, by Sean Dietrich*****

Sean Dietrich has written another fine novel, Over Yonder, one full of quirky characters, weird yet oddly credible situations, and a whole lot of heart. My thanks go to NetGalley and Thomas Nelson Books for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

Dietrich has been writing for a long while, but this is just the third of his books that I’ve read. As I begin this one, I develop a niggling suspicion, wondering whether this author uses a formula. This would be a sad discovery, because till this point, I have greatly loved his work. And so the question I have to answer before I can do much else is whether that’s true, or whether he is writing unique stories using a signature style. Here is what I am seeing: each story focuses on a girl—teen or child—who’s down on her luck, possibly facing a crisis, with no adult that will help her or advocate for her; an older man dealing with misfortune of his own such as a fatal or serious illness, and who is otherwise isolated and in need of redemption; and a chance meeting of the two in a small town in the deep South.

I suppose, after reading this third one I am inclined—as you can see from my rating—to say this is a signature style rather than a formula. I hate to be played. If I felt this was a formula, I would feel annoyed and my review would not be generous, but that’s not what happens.

Caroline is 17 and pregnant. Her boyfriend, Tater Bunson, is at the wheel of his ’93 Honda.

“Caroline stared out the lace-like cracks of the passenger window’s single bullet hole at downtown Knoxville…her hair was the color of a carrot. She was ninety-four percent freckles. Her small, upturned nose, full cheeks, and cherub face brought to mind a character from the highly successful Cabbage Patch Kids product line…Tater spun the wheel right. The car made a sound not unlike a Folgers can of rocks falling down a public stairwell. The spiderweb crack on the passenger window came from a .22 caliber bullet that had passed through the glass during Tater’s last heated disagreement with his mom.”

Woody Barker used to be a priest. He has a houseboat and a bad heart, and not much else. He can qualify for a heart transplant, but only after he quits smoking, and it’s not going well. He’s lonely; he had hoped to pick up with his ex-wife once he got out of prison, but now that he’s out, he sees that she has a boyfriend, and it looks like he’s out of luck. Then an old girlfriend summons him to her deathbed. She wants him to meet his 17-year-old daughter. Who? What??

Dietrich’s wry humor and visceral figurative language are out in force here. Highly recommended to those that enjoy strong Southern fiction with deeply developed characters.

Sharp Force, by Patricia Cornwell****-*****

4.5 stars, rounded upwards.

Sharp Force is the 29th mystery in the Kay Scarpetta series, and it’s a humdinger. My thanks go to NetGalley, Grand Central Publishing, and Highbridge Audio for the invitation to read and review; this book will be available to the public October 7, 2025.

In writing this wildly successful series, author Patricia Cornwell goes deep into character, which is the best way to write a long running series. There are, after all, only so many ways to kill someone, and only so many reasons for doing so. One can add strange variations that raise questions, and indeed, Cornwell does, but the thing that keeps me on the edge of my seat is not only identifying and stopping the killer in question, but also making sure that Kay and her family are also safe. I’ve been following these folks for the whole series, and knowing that Benton, Marino, Lucy, and even Dorothy, Kay’s obnoxious sister who’s married to Marino are safe. I even worry about the cat, and this time around, we have reason to do so. (For those with triggers: no animal cruelty is involved in this book.) Conversely, there are also long running nemeses such as Dana Diletti, the journalist that will ruin the progress of an investigation in order to gain a scoop, and Maggie, the obnoxious secretary whom Kay fired for cause, but who is still working in an adjacent position, spying for friends in high places. Round all of these off with the disturbing, fascinating Janet, an AI entity developed by Kay’s badass niece, Lucy, a tech genius whose late lover, Janet, is the model for the AI. Janet—the artificial one, since the flesh and blood one was killed several books back—knows too much, and though she is helpful at times, she also has a tendency to stir up trouble within the family.

When all of these characters are stirred into Cornwell’s cauldron, the trite, often obnoxious tropes one runs into aren’t needed or used here, a welcome relief. Kay isn’t going to be knocked over the head and kidnapped; she doesn’t have an alcohol problem and the constant itch that goes with it; she hasn’t been framed and called upon to exonerate herself. (Some of these appeared early in the series, but have been blessedly absent for a good long while.)

There are a couple of recurring features that I would like to see the author avoid. These appear at the very beginning, so the reader has a long time to get over them: for example, why does there always have to be a big storm on the way just as the book opens? And when the narrative commences with Kay and Benton packing to spend Christmas in London on vacation, I roll my eyes and say, “No, we already know something will prevent this trip from taking place. Unpack your suitcases, kiddies, you never get to go anywhere.”  And once again, the murder victim is someone Kay knows. These are small issues and rendered smaller by their appearance early, so I can quickly recover from my annoyance, but honestly, Cornwell has enough skill to dodge these next time, and she should.

I was fortunate enough to have both the digital and audio versions of this novel. Reader January LaVoy, one of my favorites, does a fine job.

The high rating I give this story, despite the opening irritants, is based on how I feel as I’m reading. I read anywhere from six to ten books at a time, located in various forms and on various devices, and while I am reading this one, I don’t have much interest in the others, although some of them are quite good. I cannot deny a strong rating to a book when I itch to return to it, as I surely do; then too, the ending is always important in a novel, and all the more so in a mystery, and this ending is terrific!

One side note: the Scarpetta books form the basis for a new series coming out soon, starring Nicole Kidman—a personal favorite—in the title role. I’m on pins and needles waiting for it!

Highly recommended to those that love the genre.

Coffin Moon, by Keith Rosson*****

“One thing you can be certain of, boy. Things change. Even for those such as us.”

In 2018, I read a book by a promising local author titled Smoke City. It was complex and kept me on my toes, and all told, it was a good novel. Since I enjoyed it, the small publisher he was working with sent me another of his books, The Mercy of the Tide. I liked it, too.

Fast forward. I received a galley this year by the same author, but he was no longer working with the itty-bitty press. No, he was published by Random House. This made me sit up and take notice! My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House for the invitation to read and review Coffin Moon, the scariest straight-up horror novel you’re likely to find on the shelves this year. It will be available to the public September 9, 2025.

The premise is this: our protagonist, Duane Minor, is back from Vietnam. The year is 1975; the place, Portland, Oregon. His wife Heidi is living in an apartment over the bar her parents own, and Duane goes to work for them. Heidi’s 13-year-old niece, Julia, comes to join them as well after her mother is sent to prison. Duane is a bit shaky, following his tour of duty, but he’s sober, has pulled himself together, and things are going pretty well. That is, until the vampire takes over the bar.

That’s all you need to know of the plot to get started. In fact, I don’t even recommend reading the promotional blurb, because it’s better if you come to it on your own. What I will say is that this is not just any horror novel. There is more depth to it than you typically see, philosophical questions inextricably wound into the decisions that Duane and his niece must make. There’s also far more character development than I generally see in this genre. Finally, the word smithery Rosson brings to it makes this book grittier, more heart-rending, and far more thought provoking than other books of its ilk. Mr. Rosson was a good author before, but the brilliance of his prose has surged since his early work.

As I get older, I find I only have enough fortitude to read one or two horror novels each year; the rest of the time, I reach for other genres. If you are also an infrequent reader of horror, I strongly urge you to make this story a priority. It’s the sort of novel that stays with you long after the last page is turned.

But the sun is coming up; I must leave you.

Something to Look Forward to, by Fannie Flagg****

Nobody should ever say that Fannie Flagg doesn’t give us our money’s worth! There are over 30 short stories in this nifty collection, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House for the invitation to read and review; had it been necessary, I would have paid hard cold cash for this collection, and I seldom say that.

This book is available to the public now.

Flagg has always been known for her feminist swagger and perceptive humor. Here she crosses into several genres, beginning with science fiction—a first for this author? —and continuing on more familiar ground with historical fiction, Southern fiction, contemporary fiction, LGTBQ, and of course, humor. There are a handful that start early and reemerge later, but most are just simple short stories, easy to read and for the most part, filled with the feel-good vibes that we all need right now.

My favorite of them all is “Darla Womble,” a story set in Pot Luck, Arkansas in 2004. Here’s how it begins:

“At 9:18 A.M., in and around Pot Luck, Arkansas, thirty-eight relatives of Darla Ann Womble received a frantic email, which read:

            ‘DARLA’S NOT DEAD, AND SHE’S MAD AS HELL!’

After seeing the email, two people threw up, one fainted, and another decided he would run for his life. This news came as quite a shock to all, especially since all thirty-eight had recently attended the reading of Darla’s ‘Last Will and Testament.’

It only gets better from there, and it was a near thing since I was eating lunch; I narrowly escaped spraying my cheese enchiladas all over my kitchen! Other favorites are “Beware of Weathermen” and “Don’t Mess with Texas,” both near the beginning of the collection, and “A Thinking Man,” which is near the conclusion.

As with her other works, these stories are primarily from female points of view and will appeal more to women than men; yet I suspect there are a good number of men that will enjoy them as well. I recommend this collection to Flagg’s faithful readers, and to anyone that needs to feel a little better than they do right now.

Through an Open Window, by Pamela Terry*****

“When you’re the last one with memories it’s like trying to hold on to hot sand.”

Author Pamela Terry never misses. Her debut, The Sweet Taste of Muscadines, forged such an emotional connection in me that if someone had told me they didn’t like it, I might not have cared for them as much as before. The same held true for her next work, When the Moon Turns Blue, which was every bit as good if not better. And now, with her new novel, Through an Open Window, I know that I will follow this author anywhere.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Ballantine Books for the invitation to read and review. This book will be for sale August 19, 2025. If you are female and have a beating heart, you should get it and read it.

We open with a scene from 1956. The local sheriff rescues two small children from a scene of horrific carnage; the baby girl is surrendered to the social worker before they find the little boy. The sheriff and his wife have been unable to have children, and want them so badly that instead of reporting the boy also, he takes him home and they keep him.

Cut forward now to the fictional town of Wesleyan, Georgia. A family is grieving the loss of its patriarch, Lawrence Elliot. His widow, Margaret is the first to receive a visitation—not from Lawrence, but from Great-Aunt Edith, who has been dead for years. Aunt Edith wants her to know something. And in fact, other family members will also see her at various times, in various places, but it’s not the sort of thing one shares with others. But Edith isn’t leaving until her message is received and understood.

As we see Margaret and her three adult children cope in different ways, we also see the interplay of their relationships to each other. This story is loaded with character development, and I believe each and every one, even Jubal, the rescued Clumber Spaniel that comes to live with Margaret. (I had never heard of this breed before, and now I kind of want one. Someone stop me!)

Events roll forward, and slowly we learn what it is that Edith is trying to convey, as the family does, and we find the tie-in to the prelude. It’s done brilliantly! Along the way, the author’s voice comes through in undeniable word smithery that forces me to highlight way, way too many passages to quote here. I experience the entire gamut of emotion, and when I near the ending, I am torn, wanting to read more slowly so that the book won’t end, but also needing desperately to know what is coming next.

The only possible improvement would be if Terry could write, and write up to the standard she has established, as fast as I can read, because I cannot wait for her next novel! She has become a favorite author, one I’d pay to read if I couldn’t do it free of charge. Highly recommended.

The Hounding, by Xenobe Purvis***-****

Who could walk away from this book cover? The Hounding, the arresting debut by Xenobe Purvis, is a story set during summer in eighteenth century England, in a tiny hamlet. Five motherless girls are given more freedom than is customary, and a rumor takes hold that the girls turn into dogs and wreak havoc on the village of Little Nettlebed.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Henry Holt for the invitation to read and review. This book will be available to the public August 5, 2025.

The Mansfield girls are being raised by their grandparents; their parents are long dead. But now, their beloved grandmother has died as well, leaving them in the care of their elderly grandfather, who is almost blind. It’s not a great summer for anyone else, either; there’s a dreadful drought that affects agriculture, and the riverbed is nearly dry. Then one day, Pete, the ferryman, tells the local gossip that he has seen the Mansfield sisters transform into dogs! Soon the rumor has spread, and others report that they’ve seen it happen, too; everyone wants to get in on the excitement.

The story tells a cautionary tale, not a new one, but a worthwhile one about the way society sometimes victimizes people that are a little different from most. There’s not much by way of character development, but this book is not about character or setting, it is purely plot-based. Purvis is a fine wordsmith, and since I was lucky enough to have both the digital and audio galleys, I found myself drawn into the narrative, first by the text, and then by the audio. Reader Olivia Vinall does a splendid job, and I recommend the audio version for those that enjoy the medium.

My only sorrow is that although this book is engaging, it could have been so much more. There are opportunities here that are left unfulfilled, and the plot twist at the end destroys the message that has been so carefully crafted up to that point. I find it frustrating. This is a good read, but it could have been a great one.

With that caveat, I recommend this book to you.

Fever Beach, by Carl Hiaasen**-***

What happened? I used to absolutely love novels by Carl Hiaasen. In his most recent release, Fever Beach, we see a conflict between good—in the person of our main character, Viva Morales—and evil, played by a variety of Proud Boys wannabees and other undesirables. The good person is always good; the bad guys have no redeeming qualities. Only Viva’s ex-husband is a dynamic character.

Still, my thanks go to Doubleday and NetGalley for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

As I read, I keep reminding myself that this is not a book I’m supposed to take too seriously, to lighten up and just roll with it. I certainly used to do so when reading Hiaasen’s work. But perhaps because of the stereotyping and complete lack of nuance, what might otherwise have seemed droll and satirical, instead comes across like a whole lot of cheap shots fired off the bow.

Mind you, I am certainly not a fan of ultraright organizations, and the rising tide of bigotry, fascist ideology and anti-Semitism concerns me greatly. But in an already highly polarized nation and world, all I can think as I read is that this story isn’t helping. It is the snobbery and elitism of the highly educated that has driven a large number of folks into the arms of extreme right; some intelligently reject the elitism and cancel culture consciously, but they aren’t in this book. In real life, those that are poorly educated and/or intellectually handicapped, as the bad guys in this book are, would in most cases give their right arms to wake up “clever” like Viva.  It strikes me as counterproductive to write a book that makes fun of right-wing intolerance, while practicing intolerance from a different angle.

Back in the day, before anyone judged anyone else by the color of their hat, I used to roar with laughter at this author’s work. Did it change, or did I? I would like to think it is the former.

I rated this book 2.5 stars and have rounded it upward, more from a fondness of his early novels than anything else. I do recall reading another of his more recent books—not for review, but just because I felt like it—and saw some of the same problems, so I will tell you that this book will probably work for you if you enjoyed his last one. Apart from that, I cannot recommend it.

Overkill, by J.A. Jance*****

Overkill is the 18th book in the Ali Reynolds series. Ali and her husband, B. Simpson, run a cybersecurity firm. This mystery features two parallel problems. The first is when B’s first wife, Clarice, is accused of a murder that she didn’t commit. B. wants nothing to do with the problem—or Clarice—but Ali is convinced that she should look into it. The second problem is that Cami, the young woman that works for Ali and B., is being stalked while on a business trip. Both problems create a tremendous amount of suspense for the reader, and Jance is an expert at juggling many threads and details without dropping anything, while making the story clear enough that the reader can keep track. I enjoyed this book a great deal, and it’s for sale now.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Gallery Books for the review copy.

One of the things I love most about reading a J.A. Jance mystery is the feminist mojo she brings to every book. It’s subtle and built into the plot, rather than reading like a manifesto, but her sympathies toward working women, both professionals like Ali, and humble housekeepers such as the woman accused here, is manifest. It’s not an unusual mindset to encounter in a novel these days, but Jance has been doing it since long before it was common. In addition, her pacing never flags, and I don’t get confused by her plot lines, even when there are a good number of characters to track.

This is the first time I’ve used an audio version to read any of Jance’s books; I had fallen behind a bit, so I checked out the audio to keep me company on a road trip. Karen Ziemba does a fine job with the narration. I highly recommend this book to those that love the genre; you can read it as a stand alone if desired.