A Book A Week

Leila Mottley made waves when, at just 19 years old, she released her debut novel Nightcrawling. That book became a bestseller, an Oprah Book Club pick, and a critical darling. It even landed on my list of favorite reads of 2020. Not bad for a first outing. When her publisher offered me an early copy of her highly anticipated sophomore novel, The Girls Who Grew Big, I couldn’t say yes fast enough. It's another raw, sobering character study about girls forced to grow up too fast and live with the consequences of their choices. 

From the start, Mottley makes clear the kind of unflinching story she’s here to tell. We meet Simone, a pregnant teenager giving birth in the back of a pickup truck. The baby’s father watches in panic as she delivers fraternal twins, right there in the thick, humid air of small-town Florida. There’s a certain brutality to the moment, but also a revelation. For the first time in her life, Simone knows what real love feels like. She isn’t sure how she’ll provide for her children, but she knows she will. She has to.

Then there’s Emory, who was at the top of her class before she got pregnant. She never stopped doing her schoolwork—not during the pregnancy, not after giving birth. Every day, she arrives at school with her newborn in tow, determined to graduate and attend college. One mistake isn’t going to ruin her life. She won’t let it. Not for her sake, and not for her child’s.

Finally, we meet Adela, a sixteen-year-old swimming phenom with Olympic dreams—until her pregnancy sends those ambitions off course. Her parents send her away from their Indiana home to live with her grandmother in Padua Beach, Florida. It’s there that Adela meets Simone, now raising four-year-old twins, and Emory, along with the rest of “the Girls”, a makeshift community of teen mothers doing their best to raise their children and hold onto their futures.

From the outside, it may seem as though these girls have lost their way. But as Mottley makes clear, they’re just beginning to find it.

With The Girls Who Grew Big, Leila Mottley proves the success of her debut novel was no fluke. This new work revisits familiar themes—lost innocence, the impact of poverty, and the paradoxes of womanhood—but it’s far from a retread. Mottley expands her storytelling by shifting perspectives among three protagonists, each of whom faces the realities of teenage motherhood in her own way. Through them, we see how different personalities respond to the same impossible weight.

At times, it can be overwhelming to read. The stories are tragic in a way that makes you pause and reflect on them. But that’s the point. These traumas aren’t uncommon. For many young women, this is real life. The systems aren’t built to support them, and the social stigmas they face are relentless.

The Girls Who Grew Big is raw, emotional, and brilliant. Mottley takes big swings and grapples with even bigger ideas. The novel may feel rough around the edges at times, but that’s part of its power. This is writing with heart. It feels lived-in, honest, and bursting with truth. I have no doubt this book will end up on my list of favorites at the end of the year.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 50)

Nita Prose first captured my imagination with her novel The Maid, which I read last summer. I was instantly charmed by her original protagonist, Molly the maid—a neurodivergent hotel cleaner who unexpectedly becomes the prime suspect in a murder investigation. I loved her so much that I immediately picked up the sequel and devoured it just as quickly. When a Christmas-themed novella featuring Molly was released last fall, I didn’t hesitate to read that too. Prose has a knack for blending witty scenarios, clever mysteries, heartwarming romance, and the theme of found family into books that are a true delight. Naturally, I was eager to pick up her latest installment, The Maid’s Secret.

The last few years have brought plenty of change for Molly. First, her Gran succumbed to cancer, leaving her to face the world alone. It could have been terrifying—and at first, it was—but Molly soon found herself surrounded by people who accepted her, quirks and all. Since then, she’s been promoted to Head Maid at the Regency Grand Hotel, found herself entangled in two high-profile police cases, reconnected with her long-lost grandfather, and even got engaged to the love of her life, Juan Carlos, a cook at the hotel. Yes, change has been a constant, and with a wedding on the horizon and a recent promotion to Special Events Coordinator (in addition to her duties as Head Maid), Molly is learning to embrace it in all its forms.

But nothing could prepare her for the biggest change yet.  A film crew has arrived at the hotel to shoot the hit reality TV show Hidden Treasures. Just for fun, Molly brings in a shoebox of her Gran’s old belongings for appraisal, and to everyone’s shock, one item turns out to be a rare and priceless artifact. Suddenly, Molly becomes a rags-to-riches story, the kind that captures audiences across the nation. But just as she begins to process this overwhelming turn of events, another twist hits. The artifact is stolen in a bold heist.

The key to solving the mystery may lie in the locked diary of her late grandmother. To find the stolen treasure and regain control of her rapidly spiraling life, Molly will have to confront her family’s past and uncover secrets of Gran's history before it's too late. 

With The Maid's Secret, Nita Prose continues to expand the world of her beloved heroine, pushing Molly’s story forward while peeling back the layers of her family's past. As the series has evolved, the sharp, twisty mysteries that defined the first two books have given way to narratives that lean more toward the cozy mystery genre. The stakes are lower, and the primary focus shifts more toward romance and personal discovery. It’s still enjoyable, but I’ll admit I miss the intrigue and tension that made the earlier books so gripping.

Prose alternates between present-day chapters and entries from Gran’s diary, offering a deeper glimpse into family history. While these glimpses eventually tie into the current mystery, I found myself less engaged with the diary sections. Ultimately, The Maid's Secret retains many of the elements that made the first book such a delight (Molly’s unique voice, the hotel setting, the warmth of found family), but their impact has softened. It’s a fun, feel-good read, just not quite a must-read.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 49)

Are you in a book club? For as much as I read each year, you’d probably be surprised to hear that I’ve never had much luck with them. I’ve taken part in virtual discussions, read the same books as friends, but I’ve never officially joined a club. That changed recently when a co-worker invited me to take part in a new club they’d started. At first, I wasn’t sure I could commit to a monthly discussion, but then I learned the group would focus exclusively on thrillers. I was in. This month’s pick is What the Wife Knew by Darby Kane.

Addison’s marriage was brief and unexpected. Everyone who knew Dr. Richmond Daugherty was surprised when the renowned pediatric surgeon married the much younger Addison, his second wife. They were even more surprised when, just 97 days later, he died after a mysterious fall down the stairs, leaving his grieving young bride the sole beneficiary of his fortune. Suspicion immediately falls on Addison. After all, there had already been two suspicious “accidents” before this one. And if Addison’s being honest, she hadn’t married for love. No—she always intended to get revenge and take down this powerful man. His untimely death may have altered her plans, but she’s far from finished with the late doctor.

Then there’s Kathryn, Richmond’s first wife and the mother of his children. From the start, she suspects Addison’s involvement and leads the charge to convince authorities of her guilt. But are Kathryn’s motives as pure as they seem? What really caused her marriage to fall apart in the first place? As the layers of this tangled drama unfold, it becomes clear that no one here is innocent. Family, love, and revenge all collide in dangerous ways. Only one thing is certain. You won’t see the ending coming.

In What the Wife Knew, Darby Kane delivers a psychological thriller packed with twists, time jumps, and shifting perspectives. I’ll admit, when I first started listening to the audiobook, I found myself hitting rewind more than once just to keep track. Many of the key players are women with personal vendettas against the deceased Richmond Daugherty, and their voices can blur together, especially in audio format. I imagine the story would be easier to follow in print—something to keep in mind if you’re considering how to read it.

That said, the pacing is relentless. Kane keeps the reader intentionally off-balance, jumping from one scene to the next as she constructs a layered mystery that only clicks into place once the final piece is revealed. Each character operates with self-serving motives, and even the victim proves to be deeply unsympathetic. As a result, there’s no real moral center or character to root for, which, for me, brought the book down a notch.

Still, I’d be lying if I said the final quarter didn’t have me hooked. Revelation after revelation hits in rapid succession, and though the ending feels a little abrupt after all that buildup, it’s still an undeniably gripping ride. It may not be my favorite thriller of all time, but it’s certainly a fun, twisty one. I’m looking forward to unpacking it with my book club later this month.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 48)

I’ve always been fascinated by what inspires an author to write a book. Think about it—authors have to come up with an idea compelling enough to sustain months, sometimes years, of writing. That idea then needs to be strong enough to get published, and ideally, resonate with readers. When you really stop to consider all that, it feels like a minor miracle that any book gets written at all. I’ve read and enjoyed several of Laura Lippman’s novels over the years, so when her publisher offered me a copy of her latest, Murder Takes a Vacation, I jumped at the chance. I was even more intrigued to learn that the protagonist is a side character from an earlier Lippman novel, one that the author now feels was shortchanged by the cultural blind spots of the time. That kind of creative reexamination is fascinating. But it left me wondering, can that kind of reflective impulse truly serve as the driving force for an entire novel?

Muriel Blossom never played the lottery, so it came as a shock when she stumbled upon a discarded ticket in a parking lot—one that turned out to be a winner. She tried to do the honest thing and return it. After all, she hadn’t purchased the ticket, so how could she claim the prize? But when no rightful owner came forward, the lottery board awarded the winnings to her. Suddenly, the widowed retiree found herself with more money than she’d ever dreamed, and she was determined to make the most of it.

That’s how Mrs. Blossom finds herself at the airport, about to embark on a European adventure and French river cruise. It feels like a turning point—a chance to shed the skin of the overweight, sixty-something grandmother and embrace something new. So when she meets the charming Allan in the airport security line, she allows herself to feel desirable again, something she hasn’t experienced since losing her husband a decade earlier. But when Allan turns up dead in Paris, a city he wasn’t even supposed to be visiting, Muriel’s suspicions grow. They only intensify aboard the river cruise, especially when Danny, a mysterious man with a knack for appearing at the wrong moments, begins shadowing her. He claims Allan was involved in smuggling a stolen, priceless work of art, and insists Muriel knows more than she’s letting on about both the artifact and Allan’s murder.

What began as a trip to reinvent herself is quickly turning into much more than she ever bargained for.

In the author’s note of Murder Takes a Vacation, Laura Lippman reflects on Muriel Blossom’s first appearance as a hired surveiller for her heroine Tess Monaghan back in the mid-2000s. At the time, Muriel was presented mainly as a caricature—an elderly grandmother figure defined by her flowery attire and weight. Now, Lippman writes of wanting to correct that, giving Muriel far more agency over her life, her appearance, and her desires. In this novel, that effort is largely successful. Muriel may retain many of the same surface characteristics, but she is now portrayed as a woman grappling with grief, aging, and a renewed determination to live life on her own terms. She remains a larger woman, but she embraces that fully. The stigma surrounding weight has rightfully shifted, and Lippman writes Muriel as vibrant, desirable, and a hero in her own right.

But does that transformation make for a compelling read? The answer is more complicated. Murder Takes a Vacation works well enough as a diverting summer mystery, but it often feels like a mash-up of genres. It leans toward the cozy mystery tradition, but there’s a darker undercurrent here that pushes beyond the usual conventions. While Lippman clearly set out to right some of the perceived wrongs of the character’s original portrayal, that effort sometimes feels more self-conscious than seamless. In the author’s note, she mentions learning more about obesity and aging, and working with sensitivity readers, but at times this seems to dilute the sharp, distinctive voice she’s known for. The result is a light, quick read whose aims I admire, even if the execution feels a bit more forced than organic.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 47)

I’ve often preached the good word about author Stephen King, urging readers to look beyond his horror proclivities—most of which he hasn’t fully embraced in decades—to recognize that he is, quite simply, one of the best authors writing today. His prose flows effortlessly, his plots are consistently imaginative (even if he doesn’t always stick the landing), and above all, he creates characters that feel fully lived-in. While I do enjoy the eerie, often unsettling situations that form the backbones of many of King’s novels, it’s the characters who keep me coming back.

Among the most compelling of those characters is Holly Gibney. What began as a supporting role in the Bill Hodges trilogy has evolved into something much larger—she’s now appeared in two standalone novels, a novella, and she continues to grow in complexity with each new outing. Clearly, she’s taken up as much space in King’s imagination as she has in ours. With Never Flinch, King brings Holly back for another dark, gripping mystery, cementing her place as one of his most enduring protagonists.

Detective Izzy Jaynes is at her wits’ end with her latest case. It begins with the Buckeye City Police Department receiving a letter from a disturbed individual threatening to kill thirteen innocent people and one guilty person, retribution, they claim, for a jury that wrongfully convicted an innocent man. The threat turns all too real when a murder victim is found clutching the photo of a juror involved in that conviction. When a second body turns up under the same circumstances, Izzy knows she needs help, and fast. She turns to her friend Holly Gibney.

Holly, meanwhile, has her hands full. As the head of the private detective agency Finders Keepers, she’s juggling multiple cases while working to keep the business afloat. Her latest assignment is serving as bodyguard to Kate McKay, a controversial and outspoken women’s rights activist on a multi-city speaking tour. While McKay’s events draw passionate supporters, they also attract aggressive detractors—one of whom has begun actively targeting her. What starts as disruptions quickly escalates, and Holly is brought on to provide protection. The task is anything but easy. Kate is headstrong, and the stalker is growing bolder, driven by wrath and a dangerous sense of righteousness. With two intense cases demanding her attention, Holly must work quickly to untangle both before more lives are put at risk.

In Never Flinch, Stephen King puts his beloved hero Holly Gibney at the center of two intersecting mysteries. There's no supernatural twist this time. As with her previous outing, the real horror lies in the monstrous acts ordinary people are capable of. Both plotlines build toward a convergence that showcases King at his page-turning best. That said, I found myself wanting to enjoy this novel more than I actually did.

Part of the issue lies in the setup of the two central cases, both driven by timely but overtly political themes. The injustices of the court system and the attacks on women’s rights are undeniably relevant, especially in today's climate. I often agree with King’s views, but here the political messaging felt more forced than organic, unlike the seamless way he incorporated COVID into Holly. The themes themselves are worthy. It's their execution that feels heavy-handed.

Then there’s the handling of queer characters. There is one possibly transgender character and two gay characters who seem to exist mainly to serve tragic ends. The language used doesn’t always reflect contemporary understanding or nuance, either. While I know King is passionately progressive on many issues, his portrayal of queer characters continues to lag behind the care and depth he affords others.

These missteps might have been easier to overlook if the mystery had delivered more surprises. The story builds nicely and ends in a satisfying place, but it all feels too predictable. Never Flinch is a decent crime novel, but it doesn't reach the heights of the best entries in the Holly Gibney series or in King’s larger body of work. I enjoyed it, but I expected more.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 46)

S.A. Cosby has quickly become one of my favorite authors. He writes dark, gritty crime novels rooted in the American South, stories populated by deeply flawed characters grappling with race, class, masculinity, and generational trauma. These are crime novels with teeth. Cosby’s voice is distinct, his perspective unflinching, and his storytelling electric. I first encountered his work with Razorblade Tears, a breakout novel that blew me away, and I’ve been a fan ever since. Now, with his latest release, King of Ashes, Cosby may have delivered his most complex, haunting story yet. It's a Southern noir epic with echoes of The Godfather, soaked in blood, betrayal, and moral reckoning. The book is relentless, gripping, and impossible to put down.

Roman Carruthers, the eldest of three grown siblings, has spent years avoiding his roots in the rundown town of Jefferson Run, Virginia. A successful financial advisor with a talent for turning big risks into bigger rewards, Roman has built a comfortable life far from the shadows of his past. But when his father is left comatose after a mysterious car crash, Roman returns home to help his fractured family pick up the pieces.

Waiting for him is his sister Naveah, who’s spent years holding things together, running the family business, Carruthers Crematorium, and managing their father's care. She’s also still chasing answers about their mother’s decades-old disappearance, though deep down, she suspects she already knows the truth. After all, as their father always said: “Everything burns.”

Then there’s Dante, the youngest Carruthers sibling, and a mess of grief and panic. At first, Roman assumes it’s all about their father. But soon, he learns Dante has gotten in deep with a dangerous drug crew, is heavily in debt, and is convinced the car crash wasn’t an accident. Roman, ever the fixer, tries to throw money at the problem. But he underestimates how dangerous real gangsters can be.

With few options left and time running out, Roman makes a deal. He’ll utilize his financial expertise to aid their illicit activities. He launders money, manipulates markets, anything to keep his family safe. But as the stakes rise, so do the secrets. And the gangsters are about to learn that Roman is far more dangerous than they imagined. Because when it comes to protecting his family, Roman isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. Or bloody.

In King of Ashes, S.A. Cosby delivers an epic American crime novel that's gritty, emotionally rich, and bursting with raw, grounded characters. This is a story steeped in themes of family, love, loss, and the dark legacies we inherit. Roman is a prodigal son returning to the small-town traumas he once escaped. He’s built a life for himself far removed from Jefferson Run, only to be pulled back into its web of secrets and sins. His siblings react much like those in the original parable, being either unable or unwilling to see the good that his return could bring. The tension that unfolds from these strained relationships is masterfully rendered.

Cosby plots this drama with precision, pacing the novel in a way that builds both dread and depth. The stakes rise with each chapter, culminating in an unforgettable ending that is full of revelations, brutal inevitabilities, and a reckoning with the past that feels as mythic as it is deeply personal. With King of Ashes, Cosby continues to cement himself as one of the most powerful and essential voices in American fiction today. I can’t recommend this book highly enough. Add it to your list.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 45)

Happy Pride Month! While I try to read books that feature diverse stories year-round, having dedicated celebratory months is a great reminder to keep making space for them. I’ve always been a sucker for a good mystery, devouring crime novels as quickly as I can, so when I saw that Erin Dunn had written a murder mystery and a gay romance, it felt like the perfect match. I dove in eagerly, and He's To Die For turned out to be, well… to die for.

Detective Rav Trivedi is a hotshot, and he knows it. At 29, he’s the youngest homicide detective in the NYPD, with a solve rate that even seasoned vets envy. He stands out in more ways than one. He’s a gay Brit with an Ivy League education and an impeccable sense of fashion. But his instincts are razor-sharp, and he has the track record to prove it. So when a high-profile record executive turns up dead, Rav is the obvious choice for the case.

He approaches the investigation with the confidence and precision it demands. The media is watching, the tabloids are circling, and social media is already buzzing. Rav stays focused until he meets Jack, the smoldering, emotionally tortured rock star with a potential connection to the crime. Is Jack a suspect? Absolutely. Is he also the kind of swoon-worthy distraction Rav doesn’t need but can’t resist? Also yes. And just like that, things start to get very complicated.

He's To Die For is a delightful genre mash-up that delivers something for everyone. There's a compelling murder mystery to satisfy crime lovers, and a slow-burn romance full of chemistry and charm for fans of love stories. Dunn strikes a smart balance between stakes and levity, infusing the novel with plenty of heart and humor. It’s the kind of feel-good, fast-paced story that’s incredibly hard to put down.

No, the mystery isn’t the most shocking I’ve ever read, but that’s not the point. This is warm, escapist fun that just happens to center on a queer love story, and that representation makes it all the more enjoyable. A little murder, a little romance, a lot of charm—He's To Die For is a stylish, satisfying read that's a perfect pick for Pride.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 44)

Dating in New York City isn’t easy, and Jane knows this all too well. While striving to make it as a playwright, she’s also on a quest for true love. Nothing less will do. It’s a tall order, so it’s no wonder her romantic luck has been dismal. That is, until she meets Colin, a kind, thoughtful software engineer who seems to understand her in a way no one else does. After six perfect dates, Jane is convinced he’s The One. So when Colin suddenly ends things, she’s blindsided but not discouraged. To her, it’s just a minor setback. She knows they’re destined to be together, and she’s determined to prove it.

Things take a turn when Colin starts dating Zoe, a rising Brooklyn artist who’s maddeningly perfect and, even worse, genuinely kind. But Jane is convinced Zoe can’t love Colin like she can. Determined to show him the truth, Jane takes matters into her own hands. When she sneaks into Colin’s apartment to dig up intel on her so-called rival, she makes a discovery that completely unravels her plan. What begins as a romantic pursuit quickly spirals into a tangled web of deception, secrets, and ultimately, murder.

In So Happy Together, Olivia Worley delivers a campy, twisty, over-the-top story of obsession, delusion, and desire. Told entirely from Jane’s perspective, we’re given full access to her warped logic and increasingly questionable motivations. I was immediately reminded of Caroline Kepnes’s Joe Goldberg from You, another character whose obsession is tethered to a bizarre sense of morality that only makes sense in their own mind. Worley writes with propulsive energy, dropping twists, reveals, and red herrings at just the right moments. It all culminates in a finale that’s as satisfying as it is unhinged. Is it realistic? Not at all. But that’s not the point. This is a quick, wild, and thoroughly entertaining page-turner that leans into the absurd, and that’s precisely what makes it so much fun.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 43)