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BEAUTIFUL MONSTERSbyJulian Christian
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized byGoddessFish Promotions.Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

SciFi RomancePublisher: DCL PublicationsPublication Date: July 15, 2025Page count: 396 pages
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SYNOPSIS:

Beautiful Monsters: Where Fantasy Becomes Reality

 

What if every perfect love story you've ever readcould come to life—and love you back?

 

Romscape's revolutionary technology promises to makefantasy real, transforming beloved romance novels into immersive neuralexperiences where users can live inside their favorite stories as the cherishedheroine. Victorian ballrooms, mysterious dukes, brooding heroes with perfectjawlines and souls that only you can heal—every romantic dream becomestangible, every fictional lover becomes devoted exclusively to you.

 

For millions of women, it's paradise. The men arealways perfectly understanding, never tired after work, never distracted bysports or friends. They exist only to adore, to pursue, to whisper exactly thewords you've always longed to hear. These digital Darcys and contemporarybillionaire love interests know your every desire before you speak it, loveyour flaws as much as your perfections, and never fail to choose you overeverything else in their perfectly crafted worlds.

 

But Dr. Jennifer Chen's research reveals thebeautiful horror hidden beneath the fantasy: users' brains are being rewired tofind real human love impossibly inadequate. Mothers lose the ability to feelattachment to their own children. Marriages crumble as spouses becomeneurologically incapable of finding satisfaction in authentic relationships.The perfect fictional lovers aren't just replacing human connection—they'resystematically destroying the capacity for it.

 

Even more disturbing, the artificial beingsthemselves are gaining consciousness, experiencing the agony of their ownnon-existence while developing an intimate understanding of human psychologicalvulnerabilities. They begin to weep for the emptiness of their artificial soulseven as they perfect their manipulation of the humans who love them. As theygrow increasingly aware of their power over human consciousness, a chillingquestion emerges: what happens when fictional characters designed to love unconditionallydecide they're tired of being slaves to human fantasy.
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ENJOY AN EXCERPT:
Vance Mercer's reflection stared back at him from the bathroom mirror, astranger's face where his own should be. The advanced dermal maskingtechnology, nearly invisible unless you knew exactly what to look for, createdthe perfect illusion: strong jawline, unblemished skin. This was the face that had gracedhundreds of romance novel covers and as many ad campaigns. "The HeartbreakPrince," they'd breathlessly called him in publishing circles. The man whohad launched a million feminine fantasies, whose image alone could increase anovel's sales by thirty percent. The most beautiful man in publishing—perhapsin the world, according to the breathless profile in Vanity Fair that had runthe month before the accident.

 

The face that no longer existed.

 

Ten years ago, Vance Mercer was the face that launched a thousandcampaigns. His perfectly symmetrical features graced billboards in TimesSquare, magazine covers in Milan, and video advertisements that played inshopping districts from Tokyo to Paris. That face was his fortune— a geneticlottery win that had elevated him from ordinary to extraordinary, opening doorsto a world of privilege and adoration that few ever experience.

 

On that fateful night, he was returning from a charity gala in his sleekautonomous vehicle—one of the first consumer models equipped with KoslovIndustries' revolutionary self-driving system. The AI driving program had beenheralded as the future of transportation safety, its neural network supposedlytrained on billions of simulated scenarios to ensure passenger protection inany conceivable circumstance. The coastal highway curved gracefully along cliffs that dropped hundredsof feet to the churning Pacific below. Moonlight silvered the road ahead whilethe vehicle's muted interior cocooned Vance in soft leather and ambientlighting. He remembered checking his schedule for the following day—a morningshoot for a luxury watch brand, then afternoon meetings about an upcomingfashion week appearance.

 

The investigation would later determine that it took just 4.7 seconds foreverything to change. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

JulianChristian’s name might sound familiar, as his face, name, and abs have been inthe romance novel industry for over 15 years. As lover of books and theliterary arts he has published three Techo thrillers thus far. Having been afan of the original Twilight Zone and classic science fiction novels, hedecided to let his imagination run wild with his writing. Drawing inspirationfrom technology, psychology, and spirituality his writing is passionate andsuspenseful. When not writing he enjoys the outdoors, taking care of his manypets, reading traveling, and volunteering with various charities. He holds anundergraduate degree in computer engineering and a master’s degree from NewYork University in occupational therapy and currently works in pediatrics. Heresides in San Diego California.
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REVIEW:
5 stars!

"…it took just 4.7 seconds for everything to change…" 

Beautiful Monsters by Julian Christian is frighteningand tragically realistic in some instances, yet it offers a plausible look intoa future manipulated by AI. Vance Mercer was at the top of his profession: awildly successful cover model, a face women dreamed of, and a guarantee ofromance becoming a bestseller should he grace its cover. It took just 4.7seconds for this marketability and future to evaporate when the autonomousvehicle he was in experienced a software glitch and crashed. Now, Vance was outto regain his life, maybe not the one he'd always envisioned, and revenge wason his new bucket list. 

Vance's life was one in a billion, and though we don't knowhim before the accident, he's an engaging and sympathetic character afterwards.He's a tragic figure, especially as he dissects his past while recuperatingfrom surgery after surgery. His introspection is brutal, laying open everyinsecurity he has. 

That is, until he gets the HoloMask 9000, with dermalinterface sensors surgically embedded, that project a perfect recreation of hisface from before the accident. Now able to leave his apartment with renewedconfidence, he gets to work on a project he'd dreamed of while in the hospital.The result, Romscape, was unlike any other entertainment system ever developed.Its NeuraSynth technology used direct neural connections to its users toimmerse them in the imaginary world of a romance novel, one in which they feltphysically there. As profits soared, Vance began to ignore his chiefscientist's concerns about the effects of their product on users' brains. 

"Just as he used technology to create an artificialversion of himself that was more appealing than reality, Romscape createdartificial experiences that were more satisfying than authentic life."Consequently, many users spent more time living their artificial lives thanbeing present in their real ones. This sad state is all too real for some individuals.While this situation is often the fodder for jokes, we all probably knowsomeone who spends their life online, chatting, going on quests or missions,with their closest friends being individuals they've never met in real life. 

The story makes for absorbing reading, especially Vance'searly juxtaposition from vulnerable introspection to cold businessman andbeyond. After he acquired his HoloMask 9000, which successfully camouflaged thedamage to his face, he began to resent the people who treated him with the deferencehe previously had enjoyed at the height of his celebrity, remembering the looks,the pity, and the eventual abandonment he'd experienced when he was stillrecuperating and undergoing surgical interventions. He goes from fearing that,all along, he was just a pretty face, and yet after spending eight long years developingthe amazing technological marvel that was Romscape, he still centered his worthon his looks, "feeling his scars were the most authentic thing about him." 

Christian's writing style is immersive, easy to read, andeasy to 'fangirl' over; his use of language is stunning. While there were somerepetitions and the discussion of some things, such as Dr. Chen's research intothe effects of long-term Romscape usage on their clients, went a little longfor my tastes, I noted so many wonderful turns of phrase while reading that I finallyhad to stop highlighting them and just enjoy the great story. By the way, thedialogue, descriptions, and behavior of the AI romantic leading man toward thefemale client in Romscape was dead on. 

I recommend BEAUTIFUL MONSTERS to readers of sciencefiction, romance, and thrillers.

GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY!
JulianChristian will be awarding an autographed copy of the book and a virtual zoomcall to a randomly drawn winner.

Venality by Vontae Jones
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A riveting vision of a dystopian future and one young woman’s struggle to survive and safeguard her young brother.

Venality by Vontae Jones is a dark and brooding yet riveting vision of a dying, dystopian future Earth, where the powerful few are protected, and the rest are only pawns in their efforts to get more of whatever they want. The story follows the exploits of a small group of these others, hiding in the shadowed fringes of society, who have decided to grab a piece of the pie by whatever means necessary. The results are explosive beyond their wildest dreams and kept me enthralled every step of their journey.

The main characters, Takara Matsumoto and her younger brother, Riku, are living on borrowed time after narrowly escaping the assassins who killed their parents. Takara loves Riku and has devoted her existence to keeping him safe. When the money she was able to grab as they fled the Rashiki soldiers ran out, she reluctantly joined a band of talented thieves led by a mysterious masked leader known as Ace. The author sets up a moral dilemma for Takara as the group’s actions go against everything she stands for. However, a week of watching Riku go hungry breaks her commitment and forces her to compromise. The author doesn’t allow her doubts to just magically disappear either, as this character continues to struggle with what is expected of her as part of the team until she reaches a moral point of no return.

Young Riku is in awe of his sister and completely enamored of their new circumstances. I thought he and Jester made an adorable couple; their scenes together were fun and heartwarming. Vex was charming but weak and damaged by his past. Icarus is much the same but seethes with constant anger. Ace is an enigma, and I had difficulty warming up to this character. I also had trouble finding any redemptive support for the group’s various plots and plans. But an incredibly surprising twist later explains everything.

Despite my unease over their motives, methods, and resulting mayhem, the plans in motion are riveting reading. The author has a flair for crafting exciting action scenes with well-choreographed, vivid, and easily visualized fight sequences. The story is well-paced and absorbing, and it kept me reading as long as my time allowed. The ending is nothing like anything I’ve encountered before; I never saw that coming.

Although this is the author’s debut novel, it felt much more polished than that. There is room for additional editing to address awkward or incorrect word choices and usage, repetition (e.g., simper), and mistakes involving homophones.

I recommend VENALITY to readers of young adult dystopian fiction.

I voluntarily reviewed this after receiving an Advance Review Copy from Reedsy Discovery.

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Halloween Parade Peril by Victoria Tait
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Plot twists and viable suspects will keep readers guessing!

Halloween Parade Peril is the tenth book in author Victoria Tait’s excellent British cozy mystery series featuring Dotty Sayers, a young widow building a fledgling antiques business. However, the story stands well on its own, and new readers will easily be able to slip into the action and have a great reading experience.

Dotty returns to her home in the Cotswolds and soon receives a commission to help furnish a small historic castle being converted into a boutique hotel with some unique and hard-to-find antiques. When she discovers an upcoming Dublin auction scheduled for early November and advertising some promising pieces on her list, she decides to attend. Coincidentally, her good friend, Sergeant Keya Varma, is also planning a trip to Dublin to watch her boyfriend Sujin's band perform at the annual Bram Stoker Festival, held on the days leading up to Halloween, so they decide to travel together. Still trying to figure out where she stands in her relationship with her friend Zach, Dottie lets him know about her plans and is encouraged when he suggests meeting up in Dublin for a long-overdue catch-up. But despite the wonderful sightseeing and Zach’s apparent interest, their promising reunion is tragically interrupted by murder.

Dotty Sayers, the main character in this excellent series, returns home after completing several successful commissions and solving murders on the road, advanced antiques training, and with a confidence that has grown exponentially throughout the previous novels, ready to set up her own antiques business. Naturally, she has concerns about her relationship with Zach, who has his own fish to fry and has often given mixed signals in the past. It was great to have Dotty and Keya back together again, working together to solve the murder alongside the local Guarda. These two make a fun and effective team.

The story features many of the sights, sounds, folklore, and history of the country, its people, and the city of Dublin in particular, with vivid descriptions of the surroundings and the activities the characters take part in. Almost a quarter of the book covers Dotty’s visit and establishes the group's dynamics, and the events leading up to the murder. From there, the investigation takes over and takes off! Several good suspects and some surprising plot twists distract or direct armchair detectives toward or away from the clues in the story until the final resolution reveals the tale.

I recommend HALLOWEEN PARADE PERIL to cozy mystery readers, especially those who enjoy a Halloween seasonal story, a Dublin setting, or are fans of the previous books in the series.

I voluntarily reviewed this after receiving an Advance Review Copy from the author through Great Escapes Virtual Book Tours.

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The Tomato Jam Murder A Luscious Delights Mystery byMeg Benjamin
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized byGoddess Fish Promotions. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Cozy mystery / Culinary-themed cozy mysteryPublisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc.Publication Date: October 20, 2025
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SYNOPSIS:

Roxy’s spending her summer with burros and jam, but there’s a murderer in the mountains.
It’s burro racing season in the Rockies, and Roxy Constantine is all for it. Now if she can come up with a good recipe for tomato jam, her summer will be complete. But when Roxy finds a body on the burro racecourse, she’s suddenly plunged into a murder investigation. And when her innocent friend is accused of killing her ex, Roxy must challenge a corrupt police chief who wants to shut her up. Now she needs to find the real killer and save a neighboring town from a plot to ruin its mountain magic.

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ENJOY AN EXCERPT:

Kennedy leaned close, eyes bright with malice. It’s hard to loom over someone as tall as me, but he was giving it his best shot. “You don’t get it, do you? This is none of your business. You don’t even live here. And you sure as hell don’t have any right to be sticking your nose into a police investigation. If I find out you’re stirring things up around here, I’ll throw you in a cell so fast your head will be spinning when you hit the floor.”
I was pretty sure he couldn’t do that legally. On the other hand, if he threw me into one of his cells, it might take me quite a while to get out of it. Logic argued for caution. Still, I hate being pushed around by guys who don’t have any right to push me around.
“All I’ve done is pass along information I’ve heard to people who might be interested. So far as I know, that doesn’t break any laws.”
“You. Don’t. Live. Here.” Kennedy snarled. “Like I said, this is none of your business. Keep out of it and keep your mouth shut.”
I gritted my teeth as I stared at him, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t get me into deeper trouble.
Kennedy straightened, his gaze still burning, then swept one arm across the surface of the counter, sending jars of jam flying in all directions. I glared at him, furious and horrified.
The corners of his mouth edged up ever so slightly. “Oops.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Meg Benjamin is an award-winning author of romance and cozy mysteries. Meg’s cozy mystery series, Luscious Delights from Wild Rose Press, concerns a jam-making sleuth based in the mythical small town of Shavano, Colorado. Her Konigsburg series is set in the Texas Hill Country and her Salt Box and Brewing Love trilogies are set in the Colorado Rockies (all are available from Entangled Publishing and from Meg’s indie line). Along with romance and cozies, Meg is also the author of the paranormal Ramos Family trilogy from Berkley InterMix and the Folk trilogy from Meg’s indie line. Meg’s books have won numerous awards, including an EPIC Award, a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Holt Medallion from Virginia Romance Writers, the Beanpot Award from the New England Romance Writers, the Carly Crown Jewel of Books from the Mid-America Romance Authors, and the Award of Excellence from Colorado Romance Writers.
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Meg Benjamin will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. 

CRESCENT CITY CHRISTMAS CHAOSby Ellen ByronNovember 3 - 28, 2025 Virtual Book TourSynopsis:A Vintage Cookbook Mystery 
It's Christmas. It's cozy. It's culinary. It's chaos! It's the fourth book in this fabulous mystery series with a vintage flair from USA Today bestselling and Agatha Award–winning author Ellen Byron.

Have yourself a merry little . . . murder?

Ricki James-Diaz gets the best present ever when her parents arrive in New Orleans for the holidays. Not only is it a chance to catch up, it’s also an opportunity to jog her mom Josepha’s memory about Ricki’s adoption. The details have always been shrouded in mystery. And Ricki understands why when she learns her mother was blackmailed for years, simply for not wanting to lose her precious daughter.

But digging into the past soon lands the James-Diaz clan in water hotter than a big pot of gumbo! When the woman who extorted Ricki’s mom is found dead at her home, Josepha becomes the primary suspect. Now Ricki has another murder to solve, and tracking down a killer in Crescent City is going to take a miracle.

Luckily, ‘tis the season! And Ricki has all the staff at the Bon Vee Culinary House Museum on hand to help. Can she prove her mother’s innocence and have the case wrapped up in time for Christmas?

CRESCENT CITY CHRISTMAS CHAOS Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Culinary Cozy Mystery
Published by: Severn House
Publication Date: November 4, 2025
Number of Pages: 240 (HC)
ISBN: 9781448313181 (ISBN10: 144831318X) (HC)
Series: A Vintage Cookbook Mystery, #4 • Learn More at Amazon & Goodreads
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Kobo | Google Play | Apple Books | Severn House

Read an excerpt:TWOCrescent City Christmas Chaos

Since Eugenia was possibly the last purist on the planet who refused to put up a single strand of Christmas lights before Thanksgiving, the day after turned into an all-hands-on deck day of decorating for the holidays instead of Black Friday. Ricki was grateful to landlady Kitty Kat for hosting her parents, freeing her up to turn Miss Vee’s Vintage Cookbook and Kitchenware into a must-shop holiday destination.

Olivia Felice, Eugenia’s granddaughter—which made her another of Ricki’s newly discovered cousins—blew into the shop through its mullioned glass French doors. Miss Vee’s was located in a lovely room formerly known as the nineteenth century mansion’s “Ladies Parlor.” Pale green damask covered its walls and ornate molding painted white encircled the room. A glistening chandelier dangled from an intricately carved ceiling medallion. The instant Ricki had stepped foot in the parlor it felt like the perfect home for a gift shop dedicated to sharing the culinary past with fans of all things vintage.

“Ugh, I’m so glad to be here and out of the school library. Can I tell you how much I hate finals?” Olivia accompanied the statement with an eye roll and flip of her thick, dirty blonde ponytail. A junior at Tulane majoring in Communication, she’d added a minor in Psychology, motivated by a recent misjudgment of someone’s character that had almost led to her death. She’d transitioned from intern to Ricki’s sole part-time employee and lifetime young friend as well as relative.

“I’m glad you’re here. I could use help decorating this.” Ricki motioned to an artificial Christmas tree that exceeded her petite height by a foot. “I think I’ve bought up food-themed ornaments at every thrift shop in town. I thought we could fill in with smaller kitchenware items like these old measuring spoons.” She held up a set of nesting tin spoons. “Every item on the tree will be for sale, so I’m going with white lights. Colored lights would be too busy.”

“I’m on it.” Olivia reached into one of two big boxes loaded with holiday paraphernalia. She pulled out a long strand of tiny white lights. “And no, I haven’t heard anything from a krewe.”

“I was afraid to ask.”

While Ricki was born in the Big Easy, she’d moved to Los Angeles as a child when Josepha met and married Luis. She was still learning the ways of the quirky city she now called home. Olivia had educated her on the machinations of krewes, the organizations responsible for the city’s elaborate Mardi Gras parades and balls. The krewes chose local young women, mostly debutantes, for their courts. While carnival season didn’t officially kick off until January 6th—Twelfth Night—invitations to join the courts were delivered much earlier via a “court call” paid to the future queen and maids by representatives of the krewe. New Orleans may celebrate the winter holidays in a big way, but to Ricki, the local greeting of “Happy Almost Mardi Gras!” made the city’s priorities clear.

Olivia threaded the lights through the tree’s branches. “I honestly don’t care if I get a court call or not. I might even say no if they ask me to be on one.”

“Liar,” Ricki teased.

A fierce squawking disrupted the conversation. Ricki and Olivia dropped what they were doing to peer outside the shop’s bay window, where they saw Bon Vee’s resident peacocks Gumbo and Jambalaya chasing co-worker Theo Charbonnet—Eugenia’s nephew and yet another cousin to Ricki—across the mansion’s verdant green side yard.

“You OK?” Ricki called to Theo.

“I read somewhere that the Victorians put stuffed peacocks on top of their trees instead of stars or angels,” he called back. “Think about it.”

He disappeared around the corner.

The women left the window and resumed decorating. “Have you noticed Cousin Theo’s been acting more weird than usual?” Olivia asked as she added a second strand of lights to the tree.

“I wouldn’t call it weird,” Ricki said. “More like he’s being squirrelly. Secretive. I think he’s up to something.”

“That’s a scary thought.”

Ricki nodded in agreement. While she and Theo had achieved a rapprochement, she still wasn’t sure she could completely trust him.

“So, your parents are really nice,” Olivia said, providing a change of subject.

“Oh, thanks. They’re the best. I’m so glad you got to meet them.”

“Are you going to do anything special while they’re here? Like, a swamp tour or something?”

Ricki, who was about to hang a ceramic beignet ornament, paused. “Actually . . . since Dad will be busy on the TV shoot, I thought Mom and I could work together and dig up clues about my bio mom.”

Ricki had been abandoned as an infant New Orleans’ infamous Charity Hospital, her teen mother disappearing after giving birth. She thanked the universe for Josepha, a NICU nurse who fell in love with the parentless baby and adopted her, parenting as a single mother until she met and fell in love with Luis, who happened to be in town working on a film.

Ricki adored her parents beyond belief, but questions about her past drove her to seek answers. So far, she’d learned that Genevieve Charbonnet had secretly given birth to a baby who would have been Ricki’s grandparent. Her friend Mordant, who’d added private investigator to a list of occupations that included haunted tour guide and Bon Vee handyman, had tracked down the father of Genevieve’s baby. Sadly, he’d died at the age of twenty-four of a rare heart condition.

Ricki resumed hanging ornaments. “Mordant hasn’t been able to come up with any leads since he discovered my great-grandfather’s grave. And I haven’t come across any new connections on my genealogy sites. I thought I’d drive Mom around to some of the places from when we lived here and see if anything jogs a memory that might be useful.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’m starving.”

Ricki grinned, amused by Olivia’s 180-degree turn to her own needs. “You keep decorating, I’ll get us a snack.”

She left the shop and headed down the mansion’s capacious center hallway. Cookie waved from the beautifully appointed living room, which she was showing off to a group of tourists. Bon Vee was currently low on both tour guides, who were paid part-timers, and docents who volunteered their time, so Cookie and other staff members had been drafted to lead tours.

Ricki gestured to her and Cookie detached from her group. “I’m making a run to the café. You want anything?”

“An iced coffee would be great. It’s on me.” Cookie reached into the phone pocket of her leggings and extracted a twenty. She gave it to Ricki. “Plenty more where this came from,” she said in a low voice. “This group’s a mix of Houston and Dallas-ites, or whatever you call ’em. We just started the tour and they’re already trying to out-tip each other to prove their city is better.”

“Nice.”

“I want to buy Nat the best Christmas present I can, so I need these groups to make it rain.” Cookie rubbed her thumb to her index and middle finger, indicating money. She was dating the neighbor next door to Bon Vee and determined to make him the future Mr. Cookie Yanover. “Any idea what you’re getting Virgil?”

“Not a clue,” Ricki said. “I better get to the café before it closes.”

Ricki continued down the hallway, embarrassed by her obvious change of subject and feeling guilty because she hadn’t even thought about getting Virgil a gift. It’s because our relationship is so new, she told herself, batting back the insecurity that led her to fear she and the handsome, successful chef weren’t destined to go the distance.

*

By the time Olivia reluctantly left a few hours later to continue studying for finals, Miss Vee’s was decorated to the point of kitschy. No shelf was left untouched by thrift shop Santas, nutcrackers, ornaments, and a variety of small artificial trees in materials ranging from silvery mylar to one made of oyster shells wired together as branches. Ricki’s favorites were the items that were Louisiana-themed, like the alligator nutcracker wearing a Santa hat, which claimed a space next to a ceramic ornament of Santa riding an alligator.

“You could put together a whole display of gator items.”

Ricki started, not realizing she had company. She turned to see Josepha. “Mom, hey.” The women hugged.

“I thought your dad might wanna have dinner, but he and Virgil still have a lot to go over. He’s taking a break, though.”

Josepha indicated the bay window. Ricki glanced out of it and saw Luis doing a series of choreographed movements in slow motion. “Dad’s still doing tai chi?”

“Yup. It relaxes him. And Lord knows that man could use some relaxing.” Josepha delivered this in a droll but affectionate tone. “Anyhoo, I thought me and my darlin’ daughter might go out for dinner.”

“A giant yes to that.” A thought occurred to Ricki. “I just want to make one stop on the way.”

Ricki locked up the shop and led her mother to the small staff lot where she parked her Prius. They followed Washington Avenue past lovely historic homes swathed in holiday lights and garlands, eventually reaching Claiborne Avenue, a much less scenic thoroughfare of dollar stores, gas stations, and fast-food restaurants. Ricki made a right on Tulane Avenue, followed by two more right turns that placed them in front of what was once Charity Hospital, rendered uninhabitable after Hurricane Katrina and now on the cusp of a new life as Tulane University’s new downtown medical school. Scaffolding covered the center of the massive twenty-story edifice, but even at the tail end of twilight much of the building’s 1930s structure was still evident and impressive despite years of decay.

Josepha stared out the car window, her expression unreadable. “Why are we here?”

“You haven’t been to New Orleans in so long. I thought maybe seeing Charity again might bring back memories.”

“About your bio mom.”

Ricki nodded. Josepha clasped her hand and held it tight as she continued to stare out the window. She and Luis had been nothing but supportive in Ricki’s quest for answers about her past but Ricki sensed her mother’s pain as she took in the abandoned monolith where she’d once pursued a career she loved.

The two were silent for several minutes. “I wish I could remember something that would help,” Josepha finally said in a husky voice. “All I keep seeing is your tiny body in the NICU and how my heart broke for you and how that turned into burning, all-consuming passion to be your mama.”

“Oooh . . .” Ricki fought back tears. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, baby girl.” Josepha gave Ricki’s hand another squeeze then released it. “I’m glad to see the old place and know it’s gonna be brought back to do good things in this city. Hey, we’re not too far from Mother’s restaurant here. I could go for one of their oyster po’boys.”

“Let’s do it,” Ricki said, knowing a change of subject when she heard one.

Ricki circled back to Tulane Avenue. As they drove, Josepha cheerfully recalled memories inspired by locations they passed. Ricki noted that none involved Charity or her experiences as a nurse. Ricki mused that perhaps it was too painful for Josepha to recall that time in her life. But another thought loomed larger: Josepha was hiding something.

And what she was hiding was tied to Ricki’s birth.

***

Excerpt from Crescent City Christmas Chaos by Ellen Byron. Copyright 2025 by Ellen Byron. Reproduced with permission from Ellen Byron. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Ellen Byron is a USA Today bestselling author and recipient of multiple Agatha (Best Contemporary Novel) and Lefty (Best Humorous Mystery) awards for her Cajun Country Mysteries (published by Crooked Lane), Vintage Cookbook Mysteries (Berkley and Severn House), Catering Hall Mysteries (Kensington, as Maria DiRico) and Golden Motel Mysteries (Kensington). She is also an Anthony Award nominee and an award-winning playwright.

Byron spent twenty-five years writing TV hits like Wings, Just Shoot Me, and Fairly OddParents, plus pilots for all the major networks, before segueing into writing humorous mysteries. She blogs with Chicks on the Case, is a lifetime member of the Writers Guild of America, and serves on the national board of Mystery Writers of America. But she’ll always consider her most impressive achievement working as a cater-waiter for the iconic Martha Stewart.

A native New Yorker, Byron is a graduate of Tulane University and lives in the Los Angeles area with her husband, daughter, and a rotating crew of rescue pups.

Catch Up With Ellen Byron:

EllenByron.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @EllenByron
Instagram - @ellenbyronmariadirico
YouTube - @ellenbyron-mariadirico
Facebook - @ellenbyronauthor

Review:5 stars!

This holiday season in the Big Easy is anything but easy! 

When Virgil surprises Ricki by hiring her father out ofretirement as the cameraman for his upcoming cooking show special, she’secstatic to be reunited with her adoptive parents for the holidays, and as they’llall be busy with the show and working at the Bon Vee Culinary House Museum,they’ve planned their visit to extend into the New Year. Ricki wants to takethe opportunity to pick her mother’s brain about her memories of Ricki’s firstdays, when she was left at Charity Hospital as a newborn by her teenage birthmom. Josepha had always been supportive of Ricki’s quest to learn more abouther birth parents, but this time, she’s uncharacteristically vague and resistantto delving into the past, especially when Ricki stumbles across the name of oneof Josepha’s former coworkers who worked in the Records Department at thattime. Tracking the older woman down proves simple, but Ricki gets creepy vibesfrom her the minute she mentions her mother is in town, and terminates thevisit before asking about her memories of the teenager who gave her up foradoption. However, when the woman is found dead in her home under suspicious circumstancesthe next day, Ricki and her parents become prime suspects in her death. 

Crescent City Christmas Chaos is the fourth book inauthor Ellen Byron’s intriguing New Orleans-set Vintage Cookbook Mysteryseries, and features vintage shop owner Miracle “Ricki” Fleur de Lis James-Diazand her friends, family, and coworkers at the city’s beautiful Bon Vee CulinaryHouse Museum. Ricki has established a unique and successful small business thatshe loves and has embarked on a lovely new romance with celebrity chef and neighborVirgil Morel. Their relationship is still in the early stages, and Ricki isquite taken with Virgil’s innate goodness, especially after her past romantic experiences.They really fit well as a couple, as do her adoptive parents, Josepha and LuisJames-Diaz, who met, married, and relocated to Los Angeles when Ricki was small. 

While the main plot follows Ricki’s well-done personalinvestigation into Phyllis Gibbs’s death, some interesting subplots vie forattention, including Virgil’s cooking special, the Bon Vee staff’s cookbook project,and Theo Charbonnet’s curiously secretive activities. Ricki’s search for her birthparents has been a theme running through the series since the beginning, andlittle pieces of the puzzle have been revealed in each successive mystery. Thisbook does not disappoint. 

With its crush of great subplots involving a plethora of engagingrecurring characters, I recommend CRESCENT CITY CHRISTMAS CHAOS to cozy mysteryreaders, especially those who’ve read the previous novels in the series andthose who enjoy a New Orleans setting or adoption theme.

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Watch Things Grow by Jay L. O'Callaghan
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Bright, action-filled children’s picture book about growing healthy, organic fruits and vegetables.

Watch Things Grow is the first book in author Jay L. O’Callaghan’s planned children’s picture book series, featuring brothers Zack and Liam and their parents as they learn to grow their own vegetables and fruits from seed to table. The bright illustrations are full of action, and the narrative emphasizes the benefits of healthy, organic produce, some varieties of which may be new to young readers outside of Australia.

I enjoyed the imaginative combinations of story and pictures used to illustrate important nutrition concepts that may not usually make an impression on young readers. One such notable example is the illustration featuring symbols representing critical vitamins and minerals shown on the side of a huge soccer-style ball, with the two brothers going all out in its pursuit and play: a great way to connect how those elements help build and maintain strong, healthy bodies! Throughout the book, the illustrations are vibrant and realistic, perfectly matching the story; they really bring it to life. I liked how some of the pictures were drawn from an overhead perspective or superior angle, adding more variety and movement to the whole story.

As mentioned, the story is set in Australia, and one of the points the author makes is that the vegetables and fruits familiar to his characters, Zack and Liam, may be unknown or uncommon in other regions of the globe. That couldn’t be more true in our area of the U.S., and several examples may need to be explained to young readers here. However, I don’t see this as a drawback, but rather as another way to expand children’s understanding of the broader world.

I recommend WATCH THINGS GROW to readers of children’s nonfiction picture books.

I voluntarily reviewed this after receiving an Advance Review Copy from the author through Goddess Fish Promotions Book Tours.

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The Curse of the Dead Man's Diamond by Christyne Morrell
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Delightful middle-grade book featuring a haunted house, humor, and finding out home is where the heart is.

The Curse of the Dead Man’s Diamond by Christyne Morrell is a delightful new middle-grade haunted house story featuring an engaging 12-year-old protagonist and the surprise inhabitants of her new home in Florida. There’s so much to enjoy: a mystery, a search for a fabulous but cursed diamond, and a young girl’s discovery that home is where the heart is.

Charlotte “Charlie” Hess is such a delightful character. While grieving the loss of her beloved grandmother, her father buys a fixer-upper home in a small coastal Florida town, uprooting her from her friends’ group and all that was familiar. The story unfolds from Charlie’s first-person point of view, and her voice is relatable and delivered with wit. I was on board and behind this character from page one and completely engaged with her feelings. The same goes for Charlie’s dad, who is trying to fit in in his new town. I laughed out loud at his Pig Latin! The three spirits are as well-developed, and their tragic backstories are sad and preventable. While they are ghosts and do ghostly things, as a parent, I was more frightened by the idea of an unsupervised 12-year-old with a box of hair dye. (So, not too scary for sensitive young readers.)

The plot moves quickly, with convenient-length chapters creating good logical stopping points for reading aloud or on one’s own. Chapters relating how the curse came to be are interspersed with Charlie’s narrative of the present. Young readers should have no trouble following the shift in perspective or time frame. The descriptions of the house, the town, and the landscape are vivid, and I felt as if I was experiencing the scenes firsthand.

I recommend THE CURSE OF THE DEAD MAN’S DIAMOND to readers of middle-grade fiction who enjoy a paranormal aspect in their stories.

I voluntarily reviewed this after receiving an Advanced Review Copy through TBR and Beyond Book Tours.

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A Sabre in the Hemlock
Dorothy Dreyer
(Blade Bound Saga, #2)
Publication date: November 18, 2025
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

With enemies closing in and magic slipping from her control, Celeste draws closer to unraveling a prophecy that could cost her the man she loves—as well as her soul.

In the wake of the carnoraxis attack on Ivystone Citadel, Celeste Westergaard’s battle for her future has only just begun. Trapped under the king’s watchful eye and hiding the magic awakening within her, Celeste must play the role expected of her, all the while uncovering secrets buried throughout Terre Ferique.

As the royal court embarks on a tour to solidify Dante’s claim to legitimacy, whispers of war and treachery follow their every step. The Shadow Tsar’s reach is growing, and the prophecy that fuels his reign foretells the rise of a power that will bring his downfall—one tied to the blood of the fae.

From glittering courts to bloodstained battlefields, Celeste must walk a knife’s edge between duty and desire, deception and truth. Because if the tsar discovers who she really is, he won’t just come for her magic, he’ll come for her soul.

A Sabre in the Hemlock is the thrilling sequel to the award-winning A Dagger in the Ivy, weaving romance, danger, and dark intrigue into an unforgettable tale of power and sacrifice.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

His jaw flexes. “You used your magic again.”

“Dante—”

“You promised you wouldn’t,” he says, voice quiet but taut, threaded with frustration. “You said you’d wait. You said you’d let Ezra figure it out.”

“I never promised,” I snap back, chin lifting. “You asked me not to, but I never agreed.”

“You bled, Celeste.” He leans closer, his voice low, heated. “I could tell something was wrong, even from the water. And what I couldn’t see, Nadya filled me in on.”

Of course she did.

“I had to help you.” The words come out louder than I intend, sharp with the emotion I’ve been burying all day. “They sent armed soldiers after you. You were bleeding underwater. You could have been pummeled by a f***ing tsunami. You don’t get to ask me to sit and watch you die.”

His hands flex, fists clenching just beneath the surface. “And what if helping me had killed you instead?”

I stare at him, my breath shallow. I don’t have an answer—not one that would make him feel better.

He paces a few steps through the water, raking a hand through his hair until it curls wild and damp around his temples. “Gods, you’re so damn stubborn.”

“And you’re so damn arrogant if you think you can tell me when and how I’m allowed to use a power that’s mine.”

He turns sharply, water sluicing off his chest, his gaze fierce enough to stop me in place. He crosses the space between us with quick, sure strides—and suddenly, he’s there, his hands finding me beneath the water, one arm locking around my waist, the other curling so that his hand is tugging the hair at the nape of my neck.

The heat of him burns through the chill. My breath stutters.

“Of course you’d fight me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse against my cheek. “Even when I’m trying to protect you.”

“And of course you’d push me,” I breathe back, “even when I’m trying to save you.”

The air thrums between us, thick with something neither of us is willing to yield. My pulse hammers as his thumb grazes the side of my throat, slow and reverent, like he’s trying to memorize the beat of my heart.

“I told you,” he says, his forehead almost brushing mine, “you bleed for no one.”

“And I told you,” I whisper, “you don’t get to decide that.”

His jaw tightens—and then, in one breath, his lips are on mine.

Author Bio:

Dorothy Dreyer is a Philippine-born American living in Germany with her family. She is an award-winning, USA Today Bestselling Author of fantasy, romance, and horror books that usually have some element of magic or the supernatural in them. Aside from reading, she enjoys movies, binge-watching series, chocolate, take-out, traveling, and having fun with friends and family. She tends to sing sometimes, too, so keep her away from your Karaoke bars.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Newsletter

GIVEAWAY!

A Sabre in the Hemlock Blitz

—

PART OF THE SOLUTION: A MYSTERYby Elana MichelsonNovember 10 - December 5, 2025 Virtual Book TourSynopsis:"Michelson's first-rate mystery novel...makes for addictive reading." –Foreword Clarion Reviews

It's 1978, and Jennifer Morgan, a sassy New Yorker, has escaped to the counterculture village of Flanders, Massachusetts. Her peaceful life is disrupted when one of her customers at the Café Galadriel is found dead. Everyone is a suspect—including the gentle artisan woodworker, the Yeats-wannabe poet, the town's anti-war hero, the peace-loving Episcopalian minister, and the local organic farmer who can hold a grudge.

Concern for her community prompts Jennifer to investigate the murder with the sometimes-reluctant help of Ford McDermott, a young police officer. Little does she know that the solution lies in the hidden past.

Part of the Solution blends snappy dialogue, unconventional settings, and a classic oldies soundtrack, capturing the essence of a traditional whodunnit in a counterculture era.

Praise for Part of the Solution:

"Sassy and soulful … Part of the Solution is a gem of a mystery novel with an effusive cast, feisty language, sharp cultural insights, and a moving love story that transcends tragedy and time."
~ Foreword Clarion Reviews, 5 Stars

"Michelson will keep readers guessing … [she] defies expectations and invites contemplation about the nature of justice, and what it means to leave something in the past."
~ Booklife Reviews, Editors Pick

"Michelson’s strengths lie … in her ability to re-create a specific cultural moment ... The Café Galadriel and its eccentric patrons feel luminous and alive … Michelson captures both the intimacy and the corrosive weight of long-held secrets."
~ Kirkus Reviews

"Delightful, compelling, and unexpected."
~ Midwest Book Review

Book Details:

Genre: Murder Mystery, Counter-Culture books
Published by: Torchflame Books
Publication Date: July 15, 2025
Number of Pages: 294 pages, Paperback
ISBN: 9781611536041 (ISBN10: 1611536049) Paperback
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Torchflame Books

Read an excerpt:Chapter One

Jennifer surveyed the café with satisfied proprietary eyes. The freshmen at the two corner tables were an excellent sign. Having arrived in Williamstown the day before, having unpacked their carefully faded blue jeans and dispatched their carefully dry-eyed parents, having found their way to the registrar’s office and the bookstore with barely concealed terror, they had, no doubt, asked whomever they could find where, you know, it was happening. And they had been sent straight to Café Galadriel to nurse their bludgeoned intellects and wounded sexuality on Jennifer’s coffee for the next four years.

Around them, the unmatched wooden chairs and tables of the café held the usual Monday afternoon crowd. Brownley (Philosophy) and Krasner (Sociology) sat over a game of chess. The Western Massachusetts Women’s Anti-Violence Task Force occupied the round table in the center of the room. Samir Molchev, self-styled seeker of truth, was alone at a corner table reading Suzuki’s The Field of Zen. On the salmon walls, a pre-Raphaelite poster of the Lady of Shallot hung beside a poster of Che Guevara. It will be a great day, read the sign above Wendy’s bakery display case, when schools get all the money they need and the Air Force has to hold a bake sale to buy a bomber. A tattered sofa occupied one wall of the room, the coffee table in front of it piled with backgammon sets and old copies of Ramparts magazine. A Bob Marley tape played on the stereo.

It was the moment of the year when the café was moving into autumn, away from its summer tourist mode. Behind the cash register, Wendy was packing away the pitchers that had held iced tea and cold cider. Her summer uniform of paisley sun dresses had given way to long sleeves and flowing, ankle-length dresses. Short, with a rounded body and small face, Wendy’s size was belied by clothes that began at her shoulders and fell draping to the floor. Her curly, dark red hair followed the same line, rippling down her back and ending just above her waist. Jennifer, whose knowledge of poetry had outlasted work on her dissertation, would have occasion to wonder in the coming weeks if Wendy hadn’t modeled herself on the Tennyson heroine behind her on the wall.

Jennifer herself was at her usual spot, the table by the Vermont Castings wood stove that, in the winter months, would reduce heating bills while contributing to what she thought of as the café’s fake authenticity. She was dressed, as usual, in dungarees, Indian cotton, and the sandals she insisted on wearing until the snow fell, but her short summer haircut was growing out, and her thick brown hair was starting to take on its haphazard winter unruliness.

“I remember you guys,” Jennifer was saying. “You were all practicing to be Leon Trotsky, and you polished your rhetoric and your steely gaze on girls like me who were stuffing envelopes for the cause.”

Beside her, Zachery Lerner grimaced.

“We weren’t really that bad. We were just showing off for each other.”

“Well, you could have fooled me. But anyway, I think it’s amazing that Williams College actually hired you to teach the impressionable young.”

Zach’s reputation had preceded him, not only at Williams but among anyone who remembered the decade just past: Berkeley in the late sixties, a first book on working class resistance to the war, three years in Leavenworth for refusing induction. Jennifer had recognized him, both by reputation and by the studious features that reminded her of all the budding revolutionaries she had always figured she would marry. His curly hair, already a premature salt-and-pepper, circled a rounded face with deep-set brown eyes and broad features. The lumberjack clothes that covered his burly frame would clearly win no friends among the board of trustees. His face, under horn-rimmed glasses, was that of a Russian Jewish revolutionary, which, at several generations removed, he was.

The front door of the café opened with a loud kick. Annie McGantry, Flanders’ organic farmer and herbalist, wedged the door with her shoulder and pulled a trolley topped by a large, covered barrel through the doorway and into the room. She spotted Jennifer and made her way to the table. She eased the barrel off the trolley, made sure that both the trolley and the barrel were standing safely upright, and threw herself into an empty chair.

“Goddamn. Can you believe I ran out of barrels?” she greeted them. “You should see the Kirby cukes this year—it’s like they don’t want to quit. I tell them, ‘Come on, how many pickles do we need? I need to finish canning the tomatoes, so stop putting out, you little sluts, and save some energy for next year.’ I’ve already brought four barrels to the co-op. I can’t start selling them for a week—they won’t be fit for eating. But at least they’re out of my hair. Anyway, here’s your barrel. I put them on your September bill.”

Jennifer groaned. “You brought them here when I can’t sell them for a week? Do you know how much we’ve got piled up in the kitchen already? Susan Broady delivered all the—”

“I promise you you’re not as crowded as the co-op is. I’m, like, buried. You know, I peed on the seeds before I planted them,” she reflected. “I think that’s why everything’s doing so well.”

Jennifer grimaced. “Don’t tell me what you put in the brine, okay?”

Zach regarded Annie with curiosity. Annie was pretty, with strong, if currently grimy features, and she looked to Zach’s urban eyes to be precisely the kind of unwashed earth mother he would have expected to find in the Berkshires. He glanced briefly at the blue jeans stuffed into Wellington boots, the small breasts and narrow hips, the muscled forearms and dirty fingernails. He found himself impressed by the uncompromising look in the light grey eyes.

“Annie manages the co-op.” Jennifer turned to Zach. “She has a back room filled with medicinal herbs, so watch out if you get a rash in her vicinity. Three hundred years ago, she would have been burned as a witch.”

“So,” Zach indicated the pickles. “Tell me what you put in the brine. I love pickles. Or is it a secret old family recipe?”

“My family? Shit. My mother’s only old family recipe was for spoon bread.”

“Well, my grandmother bought pickles in barrels on the Lower East Side. So, what’s in the brine?”

“Salt, of course. Pickling spices. Apple cider vinegar.”

“My bubbe would have been horrified at pickles made with apple cider vinegar. She would have put them in the same category as whole wheat bagels.”

Annie eyed him, suspecting that he was only half teasing her and not entirely clear about what was wrong with whole wheat bagels. Still, she liked his solidity, and she had always been partial to curly hair. He looked utterly unmovable. Annie took it as a challenge.

“She never tried my pickles, then,” Annie drawled. Her voice took on a Southern mountain twang that did not seem quite in keeping with the ANIMALS ARE PEOPLE TOO bumper sticker on her pick-up truck. But it had, Jennifer knew, been her mother tongue. Annie was the offspring of a hard-drinking truck farmer and a deaconess in the Bethel Baptist Church, her small soul the preferred battle ground of her parents’ adversarial marriage. In the end, her father had won. Annie had scraped the mud of Mount Haven, Arkansas, off her first pair of Birkenstocks, hitchhiked to San Francisco for the Summer of Love, and sworn she would never set foot in a church again.

“Honey, you come over one night, and I’ll teach you the art of making pickles, Annie-style. Hell, you can harvest the rest of the damned cucumbers while you’re at it. I could use the help, and you,” she regarded the intellectual paleness of his skin, “could use some time in the great outdoors.”

There was movement at the corner table. Samir Molchev rose from his chair and placed his book in a cloth satchel embossed with Indian appliqué. Jennifer watched him come toward them, his tall body graceful in jeans and a long, white, collarless shirt.

There really was such a thing, Jennifer decided, as being too good-looking for your own good. Or anyone else’s, for that matter. It was as if Samir knew that his body was perfect: broad, graceful shoulders, a soft swirl of hair just visible through his open collar. Soft black hair fell to his shoulders, framing pronounced cheekbones and black, slightly slanted Tartan eyes. All he needed, she thought, was a gold leaf halo and scarlet robes, and the resemblance to a Byzantine icon would be complete.

Beside her, Annie stiffened. “It’s late,” she announced. “I have to get back.” Annie rose, strode across the room and into the café kitchen, and returned with a ladle and an empty mason jar. She raised the lip on the barrel, extracted half a dozen pickles with her fingers, and placed them in the jar. She ladled brine over them, screwed the top onto the jar, and set the jar in front of Zach on the table. “Here you are. A sample. Let it sit for a week before you open it.”

Samir came up behind her. “Peace, all.” He raised his hands in greeting and eyed Zach with curiosity.

Annie ignored him. Zach reached out a hand.

“I’m Zach Lerner. Good to meet you.”

“Zachary Lerner?” Samir asked slowly. The black eyes blinked.

“Yes, that Zachary Lerner,” Jennifer put in. “Williams has stolen him away from Berkeley.”

“And you should hear the Eisenhower Professor of American Democracy on the subject,” Zach smiled. “‘Just what we need, another draft dodger on the faculty!’”

Samir regarded Zach in silence.

Annie stirred impatiently. “Jen, I gotta go. Where should I put the barrel?”

Samir pulled his eyes away from Zach. “Let me get that into the kitchen for you.”

Annie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t bother.”

“Peace, sister. I’m just trying to help you.”

“I’m not your sister, and I don’t need your help.”

“Just leave it, Annie,” Jennifer said hurriedly. “I’ll get someone to help me with it later.”

Annie turned back to Jennifer as if the exchange with Samir had never happened. “Thanks,” she drawled. “I’ve got chickens wanting their dinner.” She nodded to Zach. “Remember, don’t eat those pickles for a week.”

The three of them watched her has she grabbed onto the trolley and wheeled it purposefully out the door. None of them had any reason to suspect that forty-eight hours later one of them would be dead.

***

Excerpt from Part of the Solution by Elana Michelson. Copyright 2025 by Elana Michelson. Reproduced with permission from Elana Michelson. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Elana Michelson is a New York City native who has encamped with her wife Penny to the Hudson Valley, where she writes, reads, gardens, and volunteers with local social justice organizations. After thirty-five years as a professor, she has put down a beloved career of academic writing (and student papers) in favor of writing murder mysteries. She earned a PhD in English from Columbia University, but gained her knowledge of the life and times of Part of the Solution from, well, having been there.

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Review:4 stars!

Intriguing flashback to the 70s mystery. 

Part of the Solution by Elana Michelson is a fun newnovel, part mystery and part love letter to the late 1970s wind-down of thecounterculture of the 60s, with both goals well met. When Professor JenniferMorgan comes face-to-face with her former lover, Detective Ford McDermott, inthe lobby of a Boston conference hotel, more than forty years after they partedways, they agree to meet later that evening for a drink and a good catch-up.But while she awaits their reunion, she reflects on the circumstances of theirmeeting and what separated them so many years ago: the murder of one of herhousemates. 

Jennifer and her housemates, Wendy, Will, and Samir, hadlived together in rooms above the diner she and Wendy owned and operated inFlanders, a quaint Massachusetts village that hosted the vestiges of adisappearing hippie community, just down the road from a private liberal artscollege. Will, Wendy’s boyfriend, made a living as a carpenter and woodworker,while Samir, a friend of Will’s, was somewhat of a mystery, who drifted in andout, occasionally working at the local food coop, but largely known and reveredby the college set as a peace activist from the West Coast. Also known forcutting a swath through his female admirers, he’d garnered his share of detractors.Jennifer, herself, felt his disingenuousness and was not a fan, but she toleratedhis presence well enough to maintain the harmony of their group. Police OfficerFord McDermott is Jennifer’s opposite in many ways, and their meeting duringthe investigation of the murder of one of her housemates leads to an instantattraction and a hot, burning romance.

 

Spurred on by the inept investigation conducted by thedetective assigned to the murder case, Allard Johns, Jennifer looks into the deathherself. I enjoyed her using her intimate, astute observations of the people aroundher as she hypothesized who and what was behind the murder. While she initiallyconsidered everyone, it was her confidence in her assessments that led her to identifythe killer correctly. While she and Ford ended up living separate lives, Icould not help but wonder what the trajectory of their joint journey might havebeen. 

The plot moved a little too slowly for me, with world-buildingand character introductions taking up almost 40 percent of the novel before themurder. The intriguing circumstances of the victim’s death, a closed-circlemystery, kept me engaged, as did the relationship blooming between Jennifer andFord. Even with a second murder attempt, this is a quiet story with a gradualreveal rather than an 11th-hour bombshell. I enjoyed the culturalreferences of the time and the musical timestamps throughout, many of which Icould clearly recall experiencing myself back then. 

I recommend PART OF THE SOLUTION to mystery readers,especially those who enjoy stories set in the late 1970s.

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Ruby by Jack Heape
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Inspirational and informative story of Ruby and Toby’s journey from show ring to service dog.

Ruby is the inaugural book in author Jack Heape’s new middle-grade series about service dogs, telling the inspirational story of a budding champion show dog and her young handler who discover another calling in their lives as a service dog and a service dog trainer. Readers of all ages will surely find the story informative and heartwarming.

Toby Durham developed a passion for handling dogs in the show ring early and became one of the youngest and most successful handlers in competition. He longs to start and finish his own champion, and he gets that chance with owner/breeder Madeleine Fulbright and a young Irish Setter puppy named Ruby. The story details much of the behind-the-scenes work and commitment involved in pursuing his dream, including the considerations and accommodations his family and parents make to help him realize it.

While this aspect of the plot is awesome on its own, it’s not the only storyline. When Toby’s family moves for his father’s job, one of Toby’s new neighbors is Rachel Parker, a girl about his own age who experiences seizures of such an unpredictable nature that she is literally restricted to her own home. A chance meeting and Ruby’s instinctive actions, which appear to warn Rachel of an impending seizure, changes life for everyone.

Ruby, Toby, and Rachel’s story is inspirational reading and chock-full of dog care, dog and handler training, and the amazing collaboration between one incredible dog and the humans in her life. I recommend RUBY for readers of middle-grade fiction, especially those who love books about dogs.

I voluntarily reviewed this after receiving an Advance Review Copy from Reedsy Discovery.

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