Cat’s People, by Tanya Guerrero****

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Cat’s People marks author Tanya Guerrero’s debut in writing a novel for adults, and she does it beautifully. This heartwarming feel-good story tells the story of five people in Brooklyn that are brought together by a stray cat in the neighborhood. My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House Ballantine for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

When I first received the call to read this book, I was leery. That pink cover with a cat on it; I thought it might be cloyingly sweet. I let the widget sit in my file for a while. However, Goodreads friends—people that are not dimwits—really liked it, and it occurred to me that my own selections were a little on the dark and heavy side, so I went back and retrieved it. It was a good choice. Because I was running a little late with it, I checked out the audio version from Seattle Bibliocommons, and it made a delightful travel companion when I found myself driving across the state line for a semi-emergency within my family. Even Ox, my oversized beagle, seemed to find it soothing. Reader Elena Ray does a wonderful job.

I’m not entirely sure whether the protagonist here is Nuria, the woman that volunteers for a local group that feeds stray cats in the neighborhood, or Cat himself; this would make a nice book club discussion question. Nuria is single and a bit at sea in New York, the city where her mother told her not to move. However, she begins finding post it notes in the area where she feeds Cat; they are from a secret admirer.

The admirer in question is Collin, a successful author who’s also single, lonesome, and very shy. Collin sees Cat outside in the cold, so he builds him a small house with a bed, and he puts it in his courtyard. Others in Cat’s orbit are Omar, the mailman who’s going through a crisis of his own; Bong, the owner of Nuria’s favorite Bodega, who’s grieving the loss of his wife; and Lily, the sprightly newcomer who’s come to the city to find Nuria. All of them are brought together when Cat becomes ill.

I have never said this about a novel for adults before, but this book is adorable! The tone is perfect, balancing the cares and anxieties of the humans with acts of kindness by each that remind us that humankind is inherently good.

Recommended to those that need something a little bit warm, light, and fluffy–even dog people.

Broken Country, by Clare Leslie Hall*****

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I am late to the party, but it would be a crime not to review Broken Country, the stirring love story by Clare Leslie Hall that can make even the hardest cynic weepy-eyed. My thanks go to NetGalley and Simon and Schuster for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

The story is set in a small village in Britain during the mid-1900s. The setting bounces back and forth between the present day and the past; it’s easy to keep track of, partly because the author takes care to delineate which chapter is which, and partly because there are few characters to keep track of. Our protagonist is Beth, and she and her husband, Frank, are farmers, have lived in the same community for their whole lives. A farm accident claimed the life of their only child, Bobby, a few years before, but they are both still fragile, ragged in their grief.

Then, oh my my, who comes back to town but Beth’s old flame, Gabriel, a man that came from money and went on to make a name for himself as a novelist. Gabriel has inherited the family house and land, and in the wake of his divorce, has brought his son Leo to live here. Here. Right next door to Beth and Frank.  And to complicate old feelings all the more, his son Leo is about the same age as Bobby was when he died.

Is it possible to be in love with two men at the same time? Beth would tell you that it is. Frank can see what is unfolding, and he tries to reason with Beth, but she assures him that everyone is grown up now, the past is the past, and there’s no reason that they and their new old neighbor cannot be friends.

Well.

I seldom reach for novels like this one, wary as I am of schmalz and schlock, but reader, I see none of either one in this story. The writing is disciplined and restrained, yet oh, so intimate. When a formula or trope comes into view, Hall goes the other way instead. And though I may have thought I knew where we would all end up, I was mistaken; the ending is beautifully planned and executed.

Because I had fallen a bit behind, I checked out the audio version from Seattle Bibliocommons; reader Hattie Morahan does a stellar job with the narration.

Highly recommended.

Everybody Says It’s Everything, by Xhenet Aliu**-***

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2.5 stars, rounded upwards.

Xhenet (pronounced similar to “Jeanette”) Aliu is the author of Brass, the award-winning debut novel that was one of my favorites of 2018. When I saw that she had a new book, Everybody Says It’s Everything, I was so excited that I bounced up and down in my desk chair. My thanks go to Random House and NetGalley for the invitation to read and review; sadly, I found this book disappointing. The sophomore slump is real, friends.

Our story centers—to the extent that it has a center—on adopted twins, Drita and Pete, who’ve been leading quintessential American lives. Drita was a star student, and is in the midst of graduate studies when she is called home to care for her mother; Pete—actually Petrit—has been in various sorts of trouble, and now his girlfriend and son have landed with Drita looking for help, since they aren’t getting any from Pete. The story takes us through their native Albanian roots and heritage, through the war in Kosovo, and through Pete’s discouragement, hardship, and addiction.

I have a hard time connecting with any of these characters. The dialogue drags, and the poignant qualities that I found in Brass are nowhere to be found. Both are sad stories, but the protagonist in Brass had my whole heart and my full attention, whereas these characters left me feeling as if I was eavesdropping on one more group of depressed, underserved people, but also edging towards the door. I was just straight up bored, a word I rarely use in reviews. I continued all the way through because I was sure that it would turn brilliant any minute; it never did.

I look forward to seeing what this author writes next, because she has proven that she has the ability to connect with readers in general and me in particular, but I can’t recommend this book to you.

The Children of Eve, by John Connolly*****

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If Stephen King and James Lee Burke had a baby—an unnatural one, of course—it would probably look a lot like John Connolly. Connolly has a genius for creating tales that take place on Earth, and are in most regards realistic, while adding elements of the supernatural that go well beyond magical realism. There’s the mystery, and there’s the horror, and if we’re reading a Charlie Parker mystery, we cannot have one without the other, nor should we.

My tremendous thanks go to NetGalley and Atria Books for the review copy of The Children of Eve, the 22nd Charlie Parker mystery. This book is for sale now.

The story commences when Charlie is contracted to find and protect a man named Wyatt Riggins, who has disappeared. Riggins has thrown in his lot with some baddies, and may have bitten off more than he can chew. As Charlie—and we—pursue Riggins, we learn of some seriously nasty skullduggery that’s afoot involving international art thieves. Added to the mix are four missing children, believed to have been kidnapped. There’s not a single slow moment as Charlie tracks Riggins, and we see, through the third person omnipotent, the manner in which these thieves have fallen out, and the trail of bodies that are left in their wake. This is grisly business, and not for the squeamish, although I will say that some horror and hardcore detective novels do go places that I can’t, but Parker novels always manage to stay just inside my own boundaries.

Recurring characters Angel and Louis, perennial favorites, return briefly. At one point, Parker has been roughed up and is in the hospital. Angel and Louis have been listed as his next of kin, and they seem unlikely nurturers. While guarding Parker’s room, for instance, Louis amuses himself by making those that pass by him nervous. And when he is discharged on the condition that he not be alone for the next 24 hours, Angel and Louis make the doctor uneasy as well. She asks Parker whether he has “any other friends? Any at all?” I would have loved to see more of these two, but perhaps Connolly is keeping them in the shadows, lest they grow stale. That’s hard to imagine, but no other reason makes sense. I also enjoyed the brief glimpse of the Fulci Brothers, hired (but not brilliant) muscle men that resemble “bears in green leisure suits.”

Perhaps the most disquieting aspect of this novel—scratch that, not “perhaps”—is the development of Connolly’s dead daughter, Jennifer, who has come to him periodically and watches over him. I won’t say anymore about that, but I finished this book 2 days ago, have been reading several other books, and yet I can’t get Jennifer out of my head. For those that love gritty detective novels, and for those that are drawn to things that go bump in the night, this book, and this series is strongly recommended.

One Perfect Couple, by Ruth Ware***

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One Perfect Couple is Ruth Ware’s tale of reality television gone horribly wrong. Our protagonist, Lyla, agrees to appear on the show because Nico, her boyfriend, is trying to boost his acting career, and the show won’t accept single applicants; if he’s not there as half of a couple, he can’t even apply, let alone be chosen. So, fine fine fine. Lyla will go, and since she’s not a glamour girl, she figures she’ll get eliminated within the two weeks’ vacation time her job permits, and then Nico will get his show and she’ll get to go home.

It doesn’t work that way.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Gallery Books for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

First, a word: because I was running late with this one, I borrowed the audio version from Seattle Bibliocommons. This proved to be disastrous! The actor voices Nico in such an exaggerated manner that nobody, myself least of all, could imagine someone as smart and savvy as Lyla pairing up with such an egotistical, whiny brat. I drop the audio before the twenty percent mark and from there forward, read it digitally. This is an improvement.

Lyla and Nico are directed to board a ship with the other contestants, and it takes them to a tropical island. Once there, however, they are besieged by a terrible storm. The crew members and producer are asleep on board the ship at the time because the show is a new one, and the crew’s cabins and other facilities are still being constructed. The contestants have been forced to turn in all of their digital devices so that none of the show’s progress will be leaked online before air time, and so when the storm smashes into the island, their communication devices are on the boat; they have become castaways. Worst of all, there is a serious shortage of fresh, potable water. Elements of well loved classics are borrowed; we have tidbits reminiscent of Lord of the Flies, smidgens of—I was going to say Robinson Crusoe, but that’s overstating it, so let’s say Gilligan’s Island instead. One by one, people start dying, and there is no way for the survivors to call for help.

I have read and reviewed almost everything Ware has written. She’s been a reliable source of enjoyable whodunits, usually four stars, sometimes even five. But here I feel as if she has missed the mark. There’s a fair amount of repetition, and whereas the first half is reasonably suspenseful, I found that the longer I read, the less I cared what became of the contestants. One thing I did like, however, was seeing these lovely women that, given the show’s parameters, should have been enemies, supporting, relying upon, and helping each other. That is the one sparkle I found here, and nobody can take it away from me.

The book itself, you can have. Or not. My advice is that if you are going to read it, get it free or cheap; don’t spend your precious dollars buying this one at full cover price, and avoid the audio. As for me, I will hope that Ware is back on track next time around.

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.

The Road to Tender Hearts, by Annie Hartnett*****

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The Road to Tender Hearts is aptly named, possibly the most big-hearted novel of 2025. Author Annie Hartnett first came on my radar in 2022 when she published Unlikely Animals, which turned out to be one of my favorites that year. When I saw that she had a new one out, I tried to temper my expectations; not many authors can write more than one novel so hugely imaginative, genre defying, darkly funny, and yet heartwarming. And it’s true; not many can. As it happens, however, Hartnett can, and she has.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House Ballantine for the review copy; however, this is one of those rare instances where I would have paid full cover price if that was the only way for me to read it. It will be available to the public Tuesday, April 29, 2025.

Like Hartnett’s previous novel, The Road to Tender Hearts has quirky characters and at least one sentient animal with an internal monologue, but the structure of the plot is not as complex—a thing I am grateful for, near bedtime—and there are fewer characters and settings. Both are magical, and the distinctions show that Hartnett is not one to write the same book, more or less, over and over. She has more imagination than that; she may have more imagination than ten or twelve ordinary people.

Our protagonist, to the extent we can identify just one, is PJ Halliday. PJ was living the good life, a happy family, steady work, and the esteem of his neighbors in Pondville, Massachusetts, but then his elder daughter, Kate, died when she was eighteen, and PJ, and his marriage, came apart. Since then, he’s been doing two things: drinking, and giving away chunks of his huge lottery prize to every sad sack and every player that comes with an outstretched palm. But all that is about to change.

The son of PJ’s late brother, from whom he was estranged, dies, along with his wife, leaving two elementary aged children without a home or family. It seems that PJ is the only relative these little tikes have. Luna and Ollie aren’t sure that PJ can be trusted, since their own parents and skeezy grandpa never could be, but he actually has some strong if rusty parenting skills, and he is determined to clean up his act for them. There’s just one other thing he needs to do: his old high school flame, Michelle Cobb, has recently become a widow. He never forgot her, and now he intends to drive to her retirement community, Tender Hearts, in Arizona and see if he can try again with her. Two little kids in the car? No problem. And now, add his (still living) daughter Sophie, who figures she’d better keep an eye on him and the tots, and Pancakes, the cat that has adopted him.

Pancakes has a unique talent: he can tell who is about to die, and he goes to them, so that oftentimes, their last breaths are taken as they stroke a purring kitty. And so, Pancakes goes on the trip too, but every now and then, he disappears and is found on the lap of some elderly individual in poor health. (Or, not elderly. Hey, Pancakes just knows.) It’s no coincidence that the story begins and ends with Pancakes.

PJ is not always the best decision maker, and there are several times when I wince at the choices he makes. Sometimes, someone else swoops in and fixes his blunders, and at other times, they’re left hanging in the wind, and we have to wait to see how they will affect the story’s outcome.

Every single aspect of this book is golden. The dialogue flows naturally, and the internal monologues, all told in the third person omniscient, are authentic and full of character. In short—and I rarely say this—there’s not one single thing about this glorious redemption tale that I would change.

Highly recommended to everyone that loves fiction, and that has a beating heart.

Night and Day, by John Connolly****

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“Surely, once a book is out in the world, and being read, the world is altered, for better or worse.”

John Connolly is one of my favorite authors, and because of this, I automatically snap up any book that appears with his name on it. But this one is unlike the others I’ve read, and that might be good news for some, but not for others. One way or the other, my thanks go to NetGalley and Atria Books for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

Night and Day is an odd one. The first half is dedicated to nine outstanding short stories, all in the horror genre; the second half is a nonfiction discussion of a film titled Horror Express. This is such a strange thing that I don’t believe it at first, and I read the first half of the film critique expecting the characters to come bursting onto a busy freeway, or commence kidnapping and eating employees at the film studio. Once I discover that this is truly the world’s longest film review, and of a film I haven’t seen, I am annoyed. The author says that one needn’t necessarily have seen the film to find interest in his article, but I must respectfully disagree. On the other hand, I am not much of a film buff.

Now let’s talk about the first half, where I have much nicer things to say. When Connolly writes fiction, he is incomparable. All of these short stories are of stellar quality, and hugely memorable. The last, titled “Our Friend Carlton,” is my favorite; it’s about a friend that really, really overstays his welcome. The first story, “The Pilgrim’s Progress: A Tale of the Caxton Private Lending Library and Book Depository,” is about a most unusual library. Here’s an excerpt that describes it:

“On a basic level, the operation of the Caxton was easily explained. When a novel achieved a singular status with the reading public (generally after the death of its author), a first edition of the book in question, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, would appear on the Caxton’s doorstep, soon to be followed by the fictional character or characters responsible for its popularity.”

As you might have guessed, characters from The Canterbury Tales are squabbling in the back yard, and that’s just the beginning. It’s hilarious, despite the fact that I barely remember the Chaucer I studied in high school. Trust me, you don’t need a lot of backstory to enjoy it.

The above two stories are my favorites, but all of them are excellent.

Now comes the question of how to rate the book as a whole. Obviously, if you love brilliant horror short stories and have seen the movie discussed in the book’s second half, this is a five star book. My own sense is that the short stories are so wonderful that even if you stop reading after the first half, the book is worth having. But that’s easy for me to say; I read it free. Had I paid full cover price plus tax, and done so believing I was getting an entire book of the usual Connolly fare, I might be churlish enough to crank it down to three stars. Some readers will obtain the book for free via other means, such as libraries, subscription services and the like. And so, I will split the difference and rate it four stars; as for you, now you know what you’re getting, and you can decide accordingly.

Murder in an English Garden, by Carlene O’Connor***-****

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Murder in an Irish Garden is the eleventh in the Irish Village mystery series by Carlene O’Connor, but I haven’t read any of the earlier books. My thanks go to Kensington Books, RB Media, and NetGalley for the review copies; this book is for sale now.

I was drawn to this book because it features three of my interests: mysteries, Ireland, and gardening. On the downside, it’s definitely a cozy mystery, and I am generally not a fan of cozies, except for the ones that have a bit of an edge, the sort that make true cozy readers complain. I mention the latter because for me, this felt too sedate; on the other hand, true cozy fans may find it is just about right for them.

The premise is that the annual gardening contest, which features a significant cash prize and a great deal of prestige, is about to take place. The village’s most serious gardeners have spent considerable time, effort, and money preparing their gardens for the event, but then one of the displays turns out to have a corpse inside it; the body is that of an entrant who isn’t from the village, an outsider who’s using the competition as a stepping stone to get her admitted to another contest that has a massive cash prize. Cassidy Ryan, the outsider, has been murdered. Village cops Siobhan and Macdara, who are a married couple, are tasked with solving the crime.

As the story opens, we find the two cops—called garda—in a marital dispute, and our protagonist, Siobhan, has an internal monologue that switches back and forth between murder and her pique at Macdara. I felt the latter was overdone, but I also wonder if I had read some of the earlier books, whether I would be more invested in their romance. Of course, they eventually resolve their dispute, and they crack the case.

I was lucky enough to have access to both the digital and audio versions. This proved to be even more helpful than usual, as I was able to hear the story through the delightful Irish brogue of reader Caroline Lennon, and at the same time, I learned the pronunciation of a few common Irish names that I’d only seen in print until now. Between these things and the fact that the narrative is linear and lends itself to the audio format so beautifully, I recommend that interested readers select either the audio alone, or a combination of both. I read multiple books at a time, and because it is easily followed, it’s the story I have chosen to hear while driving.

The characters felt poorly developed to me, with external qualities—this gardener loves goats, that gardener is formal and rather picky—serving as the only development that I found. I would have liked to see some dynamics, and some agreeable qualities for the deceased included. There was almost nothing about gardening, which would have been fine, had there been character development, but alas.  For this reason, I rate the digital version 3 stars, but for the reasons mentioned earlier, the audio version is elevated to 4 stars.

The Doorman, by Chris Pavone*****

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“It’s up to everyone to draw a line, and hold it.”

Chris Pavone writes white-knuckle thrillers, and he’s one of the best in the business. His new novel, The Doorman, is one you won’t want to miss. My thanks go to NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Farrar, Strauss and Giroud for the review copies; this book will be available to the public May 20, 2025.

Our story rotates around three main characters, providing the point of view of each in turn; the setting is The Bohemia, an exclusive apartment building in New York City. Julian Sonnenberg, a middle aged art gallerist whose marriage is dying, lives there, as does Emily Longsworth, wife of the ultra-wealthy and ultra-hated Whit Longworth, racist war profiteer; and Chicky Diaz is the doorman, who sees all and hears all. They don’t know it yet, but their fates will soon be linked.

I’ve been reading Pavone’s novels for a long time, and each time he surpasses himself. The common thread that I treasure most, however, is his deep affinity for the working class, and his respect for women. In fact, I don’t know of any male novelist that is better than Pavone when it comes to developing female characters, and that is even more impressive when I consider his genre, because in most true thrillers, the pace is so fast and furious that there’s no time to develop any characters at all. Yet somehow, Pavone does it, and he does it without sacrificing the heart pounding, screaming pace that accelerates until the almost unbearable climax, which in turn is very close to the conclusion.

I was lucky enough to have access to both the digital and audio versions of this story; Edoardo Ballerini does a fine job narrating the latter. You can’t go wrong in either direction.

Highly recommended to those that love the genre and lean to the left.