Category Archives: feminist fiction

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

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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*****

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“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****

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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*****

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“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***-****

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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**-***

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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*****

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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.

May the Wolf Die, by Elizabeth Heider***-****

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“Sometimes, killing is necessary.”

Elizabeth Heider is a scientist with a long, impressive track record. Now she has published her first mystery, May the Wolf Die, as well, proving that some of us can wear multiple hats very well indeed. My thanks go to Penguin Random House and NetGalley for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

Our protagonist is Nikki Serafino, an investigator living in Italy. She’s out in her boat one day when she finds a man’s corpse, and from there we venture into local organized crime.

The mystery itself wasn’t as engaging as I had anticipated, given the buzz, but there are a few laudatory aspects nonetheless. First, Heider is a scientist, and often when someone is a specialist in some other field, they info-dump so much data into their novel that it loses its sheen. Heider’s restraint here is admirable. The unusual characteristic of the corpse, which I won’t disclose, appeared to be a gimmick that would take over the story, but it wasn’t and didn’t. The ending was solid. But the best and most important feature, the thing that elevates this mystery from three stars to four, is the punchy yet tasteful manner in which Heider deals with sexism and violence against women in the military. There are a couple of stand up and cheer moments that made me sit up and take notice.

This is a debut novel, and a promising start for Heider. I wish her well in her new career.

Far and Away, by Amy Poeppel****-*****

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Amy Poeppel is the queen of intelligent feel-good novels. Her newest work, Far and Away, is about two women that have never met, one in Dallas, one in Berlin, who exchange houses for several months. The deal is done fast, as both of them have a short time to line something up, and soon they will both regret their hasty decisions.

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

One of the things I love best about Poeppel’s writing is her ability to create a complex plot with a lot of moving pieces, along with believable, sympathetic characters; yet somehow, the whole thing is easily understood, never confusing. Our story starts with Lucy and her family in Dallas, Texas. Her eldest child, Jack, is about to graduate from a private high school, then attend M.I.T. At the last minute, however, he is expelled unceremoniously. He’s done something dumb, and it’s been interpreted as something more sinister. He isn’t even offered a chance to explain or to defend himself. And though there is a lot of other business involving other characters, I enjoy this part most for the message it sends us at a time it’s desperately needed. Before you judge someone, take a moment to listen. Ask some questions before you hurl accusations and seek vengeance. If the behavior is as deplorable as you think it is, there’s still plenty of time to accuse and avenge afterward.  We in the U.S. and also Europeans can benefit from this one tasty nugget. Plenty of others can, too.

On the other side of the world in Berlin, Greta’s husband Otto has been invited to teach for a term at a college in Texas. He’s accepted without even discussing it with Greta; he has to go right away! Where will they even live? Otto suggests a hotel; Greta is having none of it. In her desperate search for last minute housing, she is connected with someone that knows that Lucy has decided, quite suddenly, to relocate for the summer. The accusations against Jack have turned to harassment and vandalism, and she’s ready to get out of Dodge. Her husband is incommunicado, performing a simulation for NASA, a part of which is to be cut off from everyone else. Mason still thinks that Jack graduated, and that M.I.T. is Jack’s next step.

And so it is that Lucy and her brood relocate to Greta’s apartment in Berlin, and Greta and Otto take up residence in the massive experimental home in Dallas owned by Lucy and Mason. Not a lot of details have been exchanged about either place; there hasn’t been time. So, they get on the plane, and everybody gets what they get, to their sometimes consternation.

There are many hilarious moments here; I especially enjoy the foreign language errors made, both English to German, and German to English.

If there were one thing I could change, I’d rework the epilogue. There’s a considerable jump in time, but the chapter heading doesn’t tell us, and so I am taking in details while doing some mental calculations. That’s not so bad when it’s at the start of a book, but at the end, it’s disorienting and breaks the flow. I also feel as if there were too many things tied up with too many bows. A kindergarten teacher told me once that the key to having a kindergartner paint, was to know when to stop them. It may also apply to adults and their writing.

Nevertheless, I loved this book! Part of the magic is due to Poeppel’s understanding of human nature, which is inherently good, and part of it is her hilariously quirky humor that often drops in, seemingly out of nowhere. Highly recommended.

The Family Recipe, by Carolyn Huynh*****

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“We all need to feel needed. Otherwise, what’s the point of living?”

Carolyn Huynh made her authorial debut in 2022 with The Fortunes of Jaded Women. It was one of my favorite novels not only of that year, but of all the thousand-plus galleys I have read since I began reviewing. She’s back again with The Family Recipe, and it’s every bit as good as the first. My thanks go to NetGalley and Atria Books for the invitation to read and review, but make no mistake: I would have hunted this thing down and bought it with my Social Security check if it came down to it. I wouldn’t have been sorry, either.

This book is available to the public now.

Once again, our protagonists are Vietnamese and Vietnamese-Americans, mostly women, and once again, they are siblings and other family members that must come together; it isn’t a voluntary reunion. And that’s where the similarities between the first book and this one end.

Duc Tran, the patriarch, has laid out the terms by which his children may inherit his fortune. Once upon a time, he was the Vietnamese sandwich king, and in order to become his heir, each of his four daughters must relocate to a city she doesn’t want to live in, and revive a down-at-the-heels restaurant in a now undesirable end of town. It’s a contest; that is, unless Duc’s one son, Jude, succeeds in getting married within the one year’s time limit of the contest. If he can do that, he wins. (His sisters aren’t worried; who would marry Jude?)

The story is told from several points of view; these include the siblings, their uncle—a shady lawyer, and Duc’s best friend; their mother, who abandoned them when they were small, when her mental health collapsed, and never went back; Duc’s second wife; and briefly, Duc himself, who mostly serves as a mysterious figure that doesn’t even return to the States to lay out his children’s requirements, sending their uncle as his proxy.  As the story unfolds, we learn more about each sibling, and about the traumas they have experienced, as well as their successes.

The thing that makes it work so well is Huynh’s unerring sense of timing. It’s a dramatic tale, but it’s shot full of humor, as we see at the outset, when we learn the sisters’ names. Their father was a huge fan of the Beatles, and so the girls are named Jane, Paulina, Georgia, and (wait for it…) Bingo!

There are plenty of twists and turns, and the dialogue crackles. The internal monologues are mesmerizing. This book would make a fantastic movie.

Since I was reading this galley digitally, I highlighted quotes that I thought I’d like to use in this review, but there are 28 of them. Obviously, I cannot share them all here, but let that inform you, if nothing else here has, how much I love this book.

Highly recommended to anyone that has a beating heart, at least a passing interest in Vietnamese-American culture and/or family stories, and can use a few good laughs.