Tess is pregnant and on bed rest, and it’s driving her crazy to have to sit still, unable to go out and investigate anything. She watches more daytime television than she has ever seen in her life and watches the view from her sun porch. One day she notices that the woman in a celery-green raincoat who has been walking her dog every day suddenly is not there anymore, but the dog is running around on a leash without his owner. Her detective instincts kick in, and she’s sure that something sinister has happened to the woman. Rather than letting the idea go, as her boyfriend Crow would like for her to do, Tess begins investigating in whatever ways she can: via phone, internet and friends: she orchestrates an inquiry from her couch.

Meanwhile, Tess is trying to figure out what her future is with Crow and how to be a first-time mother at 35. The novella plays out as we get to know a little bit more about each character in Tess’s sphere, as well as put together pieces of the puzzle that may or may not even exist surrounding the girl in the raincoat.

All around, an entertaining, light read.

Rated: Mild, for a few uses of mild and moderate language and some mild violence.

As my first Celtic-urban-fantasy novel, Lament was great fun. The Faerie world was actually a bit more complicated than I would’ve liked; even at the end I felt a little bit like, “huh?” and not all plots were actually tied up as well as I would’ve liked. But it’s kudos to the author that I still had a great time reading it. I loved how much music was a part of the story, and while following the age-old formula of regular-girl-loved-by-amazing-guy, the romance was still enjoyable to read. I’d try another book by this author.

Rated: Moderate for language. Two uses of strong language and multiple uses of moderate language. A few heated making-out scenes, but no sex.

And there you have it.

I did not love it.

The writing was just not sharp or particularly amazing. I didn’t love the character development — no one stood out as someone I was eager to read about; even our narrator felt mostly nosy and she honestly made me uncomfortable sometimes. I guess this could be a spoiler, but you figure it out in the first chapter: the crux of it is that Miss Sharp is completely infatuated with Jane. In love with her, in lust with her, however you want to say it. And so her deep desires to get at the root of what happened to Jane just fell flat for me, felt very forced. Sometimes I just did not want to be in her head, frankly, and yet other times I did feel sympathetic for her plight. It know it would be hard to be a lesbian in a time period where there was absolutely no way to live that lifestyle without either being so rich you can get away with anything or being a complete outcast.

What did I like? The time period. A few of the minor characters were intriguing. I like the idea of it and the actual mystery itself was good, I think; I just didn’t like the story, if it is possible to like one and not the other.

Rated: Mild for scenes of same-sex attraction and a same-sex love interest

So Bee sets to work becoming the only detective trying to solve a case of murder. There are plenty of suspects, including her sister’s older, married lover, who denies adamantly impregnating Tess; a male friend whose devotion to Tess may very well have turned into stalking; and then the medical professionals involved in the genetic trial for which Tess volunteered.

As the story goes on, Bee looks back on all the events that led to where she is now, writing an imaginary letter to her dead sister. She knows who killed Tess, and that knowledge has put her in danger as well.

Sister is on the one hand a murder mystery, but it is just as much an ode to the love that can exist between sisters. Rosamund Lupton writes beautifully as she captures the tenderness that Bee feels for her younger, free-spirited sister and the grief that Bee feels over the huge loss. The book is satisfying on both levels, as a mystery that unravels at just the right pace, and as a work of literature that captures human emotions.

Rated: High, primarily for language. There are between 15 and 20 uses of strong language in the book. There are also a few fairly tame sexual references and a sex scene that offers no details, and some mild violence.

Connor, Risa, and Lev each end up being signed over as Unwinds; Connor because he’s been a troublemaker; Risa because she’s a ward of the state, and everyone knows the budget can only sustain so many kids; and Lev because his very religious family has planned from his earliest years to give him as a tithe (he’s the last of 10 children). Connor decides to “kick AWOL” to avoid his fate, and he ends up running into Risa and Lev. The three essentially share a path as rebels, with the goal to stay alive until age 18, when they cannot legally be unwound anymore.

The premise of this book is fascinating, and Neal Shusterman doesn’t disappoint as he takes readers on a generally fast-paced ride that’s not only action-filled but thought-provoking. Along the way, he explains more about the history of this society and how it ended up creating this system of retroactive abortions. Throughout the book, consequences and unintended repercussions from the laws are referenced: Doctors no longer know how to deal with health issues in other ways except to replace sick or defective organs or limbs with “donations” from Unwinds. Women who give birth and don’t want to be mothers can try to get their babies adopted or just “stork” them: leave their infants on doorsteps and run before they’re found out. Many families are large, and a huge population of children live in state homes. The system creates whole new philosophies about parenting and what it means to be alive and have a soul. Unwind is a great book for adults and teens alike to ponder on these issues from a different angle.

Rated: Mild. There is practically no bad language, and little in the way of sexual content. There is some actual violence, along with death and just a moderate level of intensity.

The focus is on Luma Mufleh, who grew up in Jordan loving soccer. St. John touches on, but doesn’t delve into, Luma’s trouble with growing up in such a restrictive environment for girls. She comes to the U.S. for college, and much to her father’s disappointment, decides to stay. She tries a few things, coaching soccer on the side, before literally falling into creating teams for the boys of Clarkston.

Clarkston, Georgia, was once a sleepy little Southern town. However, over the past decade or so, it has become a place for refugees — from all over the world, but mostly Africa — to begin their lives in the U.S. You can imagine (and, unfortunately, the town lives up to that stereotype) how that goes over in the all-white, good-boy South. The problem is that because there isn’t much infrastructure for them, the kids were getting lost in the cracks, turning to gangs, drugs and violence.

Enter Luma’s soccer program. She’s not an easy coach; to his credit, St. John never glorifies her: she is harsh, she is unforgiving, she is tough, she is demanding. But above all, she is dedicated and she cares. Amazingly, this combination of toughness and caring works, especially for the younger kids. Not only does Luma give them a purpose, a family and a place, she teaches them to win games.

As I mentioned before, it’s not an Inspirational book, and yet there is a message: one person can make a difference. It’s just not one that St. John beats you over the head with, thankfully. Instead, he found a good story, spent a while researching it, and told it in a compelling way. Which makes this one excellent book.

Rated: Moderate. But it really just feels like a mild: There are two f-bombs, but in context (one boy says one in frustration, and Luma repeats what he said as she kicks him off the team for swearing); I found them unoffensive.

This was Maria Sutton’s reality. Born in a Displaced Persons camp in Germany in the aftermath of World War II, she arrived in the United States when she was still very young. Beyond knowing that her mother was born in a tiny village in the Ukraine, the rest of her history was a secret. But Maria wanted to know — wanted her own history and needed the details of her own story. As you can imagine, such a search brings both heartache and joy, especially when your family have been the victims of a period of time like World War II. Her search takes her, literally, all across the globe as she tries to piece together her family tree.

Maria’s story is a pretty amazing one. The things she is able to learn and the people she is able to meet are nothing short of miraculous. I think that this book would be very inspirational to family history buffs anywhere, especially because of all the different kinds of records she looks at to find clues in a part of the world that was absolutely ravaged by war.

Very readable, The Night Sky sometimes waxes a bit redundant. The writing isn’t super polished and I’m not a big fan of extensive foreshadowing, but for the kind of story Sutton has to tell, the narrative flows quite well. I appreciated that she doesn’t make excuses for her own behavior or anyone else’s and when she doesn’t know the details about a particular event, she gives solid historical information to flesh things out. It was also interesting to hear about people who were persecuted by the Germans who were not Jewish — their experiences during the war don’t seem to be quite as well documented, although as many of them were slaughtered. This book deserves a strong recommendation, not only for a narrative that kept my attention (all the pictures helped) but for the sheer amount of knowledge that this one woman was able to find out about a family that was lost to her.

Rated: None

Then she discovers an old bucket list of hers, which has “read Jane Austen” on it. She does, falls in love (just with the idea of falling in love, of course), and, as a present to herself, goes on vacation to Pembrook Park. For a good, old-fashioned Regency Romance.

The best way I can think of to describe it is thus: if Austenland (which you don’t need to read before reading this one, but why wouldn’t you?) is Pride and Prejudice, Midnight in Austenland is Northanger Abbey. There are a couple of mysteries — both real and made-up — to solve; there’s a lot of running around at night; but most of all, there’s a Gothic feel. That, and the book just isn’t as light as Austenland is. It’s not only Charlotte’s hurt from her husband’s infidelity and betrayal, and the mysteries, there’s just a lot more brooding going on. The romantic interest, Mr. Mallery, is Heathcliff — okay, I know: not Austen, but the best description — reincarnated. He attempts to do the Regency thing, but mostly he just skulks in the corner. Thank goodness there’s Charlotte’s “brother” (for the two weeks, not in real life) Eddie Grey, who lightens and mixes things up. Some of the minor players from Austenland are back: the formidable hostess, Mrs. Wattlesbrook (who is not quite as formidable), and the goofy-yet-vulnerable Miss Charming. There are new characters as well, including a starlet who’s using Pembrook Park as a place to escape not just from the press, but from real life.

The only complaint I have is that it’s not as funny as Austenland was (or that I’d hoped this would be). That’s not to say it isn’t good. Admittedly, I adore Shannon Hale, but I do think this one is worth reading (if only for this sentence: “But in life, rarely do we encounter an onslaught of beauty, enter a hive of handsomeness, find ourselves awash in an ocean of attractiveness, drowning in a miasma of hotness.”). It’s sweet and it’s tender; it’s light enough to be fluffy, but has enough weight so that it’s not a waste of time. (I need to say it: there was a moment when I needed to shout “GO CHARLOTTE!” Hooray for heroines who can save themselves!)

In short: it’s another delight from a delightful writer.

Rated: Mild for two mild swear words.

When I finished this book I hugged it to my chest and wiped away a few stray tears. That should tell you all you need to know. Enzo, though a dog, is a deeply human and compassionate narrator. His love for his family is touching, and the trials they all face together are heart-wrenching, and, in turn, their triumphs heartwarming. Wisdom, practical insight and humor grace almost every page. This is a book to cherish, remember and reread in a few years. I loved everything about it: story, writing, characters and ending. Highly recommended.

Rated: Moderate: Some foul language, including the occasional F-word. A few mild sex scenes and sexual references.

Dodd is a Southern gentleman in his 60s who has been a professor of history for years. He has been working on his magnum opus, what he hopes to be a multivolume work called Old South, and hasn’t had the free time he’d like to get it done. He thinks that a diplomatic post of some sort would allow him the time to devote to his work that he hasn’t had as the chairman of the history department at the University of Chicago. When he gets the opportunity to be ambassador to Germany, he takes it, even though he knows that this kind of intense post will keep him too busy to write; but he realizes he would be doing high-profile work that could make an important contribution to his own reputation and to his country.

Dodd takes along his wife, his son, and his daughter, Martha, a 24-year-old with aspirations of being an author. The family isn’t wealthy, unlike most of the American diplomats, who come from the “Pretty Good Club” of old money and Ivy League educations, and Dodd is a Jeffersonian Democrat who wants to emulate fine ideals. His plan to live and operate as an ambassador on the salary he receives is laughable to his new peers, who find him to be an oddity on many levels. Martha is a flirt who has already had a full love life, including a secret marriage that is in its last throes. The fact that she hasn’t divorced yet doesn’t prevent her from leaping head-first into the active social milieu of pre-World War II Berlin.

The book focuses primarily on the experiences of Dodd and Martha, and their perspectives on the city of Berlin and the Nazis. Dodd is not pleased with how things are playing out in Germany’s politics, but he hopes to make some kind of a positive impression, and, as with so many other observers at the time, he is sure that each negative action of Hitler and his cronies will surely lead to the end of his regime. Martha is for a long time enamored of the gallant young men who are so handsome and blond and loyal to their country. But in less than a year’s time (the book focuses on the time period from mid-1933, when the Dodds first arrive in Berlin, to a year later), Dodd and Martha become disillusioned.

It’s fascinating to read about this particular set of perspectives when the world had no idea what would come in just a few short years, and to read about the activities of this family and those with whom they were in contact; it is especially astonishing to learn about Martha’s love affairs, which were many and blatant, quite shocking for a diplomat’s daughter. She is involved with a head of the Gestapo and with a Soviet spy, to name just two.

The book provides a lot of food for thought and is well written, as is to be expected from Larson. Highly recommended.

Rated: Mild, primarily for references to violence. There are just a few incidences of language, and only references to promiscuous behavior but no real details.