The Autumn Springs Retirement Home Massacre, by Philip Fracassi*****

It’s not just every day that I run across a five-star slasher novel, but author Philip Fracassi hasn’t written just any slasher novel, either. The Autumn Springs Retirement Home Massacre is one of this autumn’s most agreeable surprises. My thanks go to NetGalley, Macmillan Audio, and Tor for the review copies; this book will be available to the public September 30, 2025.

When a friend recommended it, she said it was funny and also different from her expectations. I agree on both counts. I was anticipating a book with plenty of old-folks barbs, sort of like the satirical carol, “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” I considered whether I was up for it, given that I am a grandma myself, and decided my sense of humor hadn’t aged out. Sure, let’s give it a go.

Instead, though the book is indeed darkly funny in places, it also has aspects I didn’t anticipate. How many humorous slasher stories have character development, for instance? How many have genuinely poignant moments? And finally, on a more traditional yardstick, I find myself completely surprised by the solution.

Our protagonist is Rose Dubois, a 70-year-old retired school teacher. She buys a unit in the retirement community, not because she’s too decrepit to remember her medications or because she needs constant monitoring, but because she is ready to live in a smaller home near other people her own age. Her daughter has been urging her to come live with her instead, but Rose has friends here. She likes her little place, and she values her independence. She doesn’t want to go anywhere else.

Then her pals begin dying. The first is her bestie, and it stings, but also raises questions. The death—without giving anything away—seems out of character. But surprises happen, and they’re not all nice ones, so she and Angela’s other friends grumble, but move on.

But as the title suggests, there’s another. And another. Where will it stop? Rose and her remaining friends vow to stop it themselves, since the local cops and the home’s administrators don’t seem terribly concerned.

The story also raises the issue, a very real one, of the public’s lack of concern for the elderly. Hey, old people die. That’s what we do! And moreover, before we go, older folks become nearly invisible. The author’s moving note in the afterword explains why he took the approach he did.

Not long after I began reading, I was given access to the audio version, narrated by one of my favorites, January LaVoy. Although the print version is delightful, I give a slight edge to the audio because its format, which is mostly linear, lends itself well to this medium, and also because LaVoy always brings something extra to her narration.

Highly recommended to all that enjoy mysteries and a little gallows humor.

Two Nights in Lisbon, by Chris Pavone*****

“Once first blood is drawn, sharks make quick work.”

Chris Pavone (Puh-vo-KNEE) writes the best thrillers around. I read his second novel, The Accident, in 2015, thanks to the First Reads program on Goodreads, and I liked it so well that I ferreted out a copy of his debut thriller, The Expats at my favorite used bookstore. I’ve read and reviewed everything he’s published since then, and I’ll tell you right now, Two Nights in Lisbon is his best.

My thanks go to Net Galley; Farrar, Strauss, and Giroux; and Macmillan Audio for the review copies. This book will be available to the public May 24, 2022.

The beginning doesn’t impress me much; a couple is in Portugal and he leaves before she gets up; says he’ll be right back; and he disappears. In real life this would be a big deal, but in a thriller, it feels almost generic (though it actually isn’t.)  Ariel—the stranded wife—is beside herself with worry, and she goes to the police and to the U.S. Embassy, but they all blow her off. It hasn’t been 24 hours yet, there’s no sign of foul play, and face it honey, sometimes husbands wander. She carries on until we’re a quarter of the way into the book, and this part of it could probably stand to be tightened up some. But this story draws the full five stars from me, because after this, Pavone makes up for it, and more.

Next comes the ransom demand. Nameless, faceless baddies contact her. They have her husband; they want three million dollars, and they want it fast.

I won’t spoil the plot for you, but I’ll say this much: this plot is original, and as thrillers go, also plausible. There’s never a moment where I stop believing. And there’s a wonderfully satisfying measure of Karma attached at the end.

The thing that makes me love this author so hard, and that is particularly strong this time around, is his deep, consistent respect for women. In this era of MeToo and mansplaining, it takes a lot of chutzpah for a man to write a female protagonist, and what’s more, he includes a rape scene, which I trust no man for EVER, except for Pavone right here right now. He tells it the way a woman would tell it, and—all you other male authors out there, listen up—there’s not one moment where the assault feels even a tiny bit sexy. And so, at the beginning of this particular scene I tensed, waited to be outraged, or disappointed, or whatever—and then relaxed, because he gets it. This guy gets it.

Ariel makes the occasional small mistake, but no large ones. She is intelligent, organized, and capable of looking out for herself, even in a foreign country where she doesn’t speak the language. The reveal at the end makes me do a fist pump. Yesss.

The pace never flags after the first quarter, and there are occasional moments that make me guffaw. This is a story that brooks no tolerance of the wealthy, the elite, the entitled.

I received both the audio and digital review copies, and so I alternated the two, although I listened the majority of the time, backtracking for quotes and other salient details for the purpose of this review. January LaVoy is our narrator, and she does an outstanding job. You can’t go wrong with either version, but I would give the edge to the audio version, which is immensely entertaining.

Highly recommended.