Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book for honest review.
“Increments of fire in Judea burned upon the terrain: campfires were present among huddled travelers and lamp frames peeked out from tent openings and from beneath settled wagons.
Increments of fire had become more visible as the sabbath daylight faded; the corresponding increase in darkness that blanketed the terrain marked the beginning of Passover’s continuation into the Feast of Unleavened Bread.”
The 4-1-1
A “failed disciple of Jesus,” James is as injured internally as he is externally. Because when Jesus was arrested by the Romans in Gethsemane, James ran. Struck on the head by a Roman soldier during the arrest, James comes to later on the Jericho Road with a serious head wound. Hurt. Frightened. Bewildered. Confused. Guilty.
James is treated by a travelling apothecary, Malcam, and his daughter, Lydia. They think he’s a little nuts. But they have compassion on the wounded, woozy fella who can’t seem to think straight. Unsteady on his feet and disoriented, James wanders off (don’t we all?). When Malcam and Lydia realize that James is MIA, Malcam ventures into the “increments of fire” burning around the Judean night in search of James. What will he find? Is James suffering from a fractured skull or something more?
As James grapples with the concept of grace and whether or not it applies to him – confused, disoriented – “unraveled” – lost – the concept is illustrated by Malcam and Lydia. In spades: “A father’s love. This is his gift.”
Along the way we meet others who are walking examples of a touch of grace. Benjamin is a former landlord reduced to a “homeless beggar” due to unpaid taxes. Malcam treats Ben’s sores for free. (Kimber:An epidemic of active boils seems to have broken out in Judea. Are we in Egypt?)
Focus
The narrative focuses on how James may have felt after Jesus was arrested and crucified. Scared. Bewildered. Confused. We follow James as he walks a tightrope between guilt and faith, repentance and forgiveness. James understands the concepts. He’s not quite sure if forgiveness and grace apply to him – a “damaged follower of Jesus.”
AI-generated image. Duh.
Light in both the physical and metaphysical sense is a recurring theme, the former reflected in fire, oil lamps, or “aggressive torches.” External events such as bandit marauders attacking a small encampment of Passover pilgrims reflect James’s inner turmoil. Ditto his interrogation by Roman legionnaires in Chapter 6.
Whispers
Alert readers will recognize whispers of grace in this story. Like the birth of Judith’s daughter, assisted by Lydia. The women share “the tender joy of witnessing one of life’s great miracles.” James has his own “miracle” too as grace soaks into his soul. Aka: “newborn eyes.” And weakness greater than any strength. There’s also the shepherds Azor and Obed: “Everyone needs milk.” Lydia, a “growing convert toward Jesus.” Lame Elisha, a disciple. New parents Judith and Amnon, “too poor to hold onto any belief.” Shaphan “of the corrupt elite class.”
Outsiders. All. Or are they?
The author demonstrates an expert grasp of the geography, history, customs and culture of the region and time. An occasional typo crops up here and there. It’s “were,” not “where” on page 62, for example. And “So does you heart!” on page 66. But these are not pervasive and don’t detract from the overall story.
A familiarity with the New Testament in general and the Gospels in particular is helpful but not mandatory.
At first glance, the title seems more blank billboard than roadmap. Feels abstract and wobbly. Like nailing Jell-o to a tree. But patient readers will connect the dots. Remember what an “increment” is: A small, usually regular amount or step by which something increases, grows, or is added to over time. And so it is with James as he slowly realizes what’s happened in recent days and why. And how all the seemingly unconnected events and characters in the story – the “increments” James encounters – kindle a fire in his soul.
Like a glacier carving a valley, the narrative is slow-paced and deliberate. There’s no wasted motion, no unswerving path. A steady, thoughtful exploration of what might have been, this book has zero rush. It rises slowly, like dawn through cold, still air.
Finally, if you’ve ever felt lonely. Confused. Guilty. Bewildered or afraid. Lost. This book is for you. It’s as subtle as a spark in the dark, yet as powerful as a forest fire.
Kimber: Mom has finally lost it. Well, I’m not so sure she had it in the first place. But after reading this new sci book thingy by Anthony Dean and my best new bud, Space Dog, Mom’s skipping around the house belting out this Hank Williams tune. Methinks a community-wide warning may be appropriate.
Now, you’re probably wondering what Her Royal Momness bursting into song has to do with a book set in the waaaaay distant future (we’re talking hundreds of millions of years here and more crispy bacon than I can count!)? Good question, Cookie. I’ll get to that in a min. So kindly keep your hair on, okay?
The Basics
First things first. With the basics. Like this:
When a fella we meet as “the Candidate” gets chucked into prison following a kangaroo court trial on “treason” charges – he was starting to worry the seven-term presidential incumbent – he finds himself sentenced to exile in the “Local Void.” As in, not exactly an all-expense paid round trip to Tahiti, if ya get our drift.
Located nearly 150 million light years from earth after travelling like, forever in a “hibernation pod,” said dude wakes up to discover he is “Prisoner Number One.” It’s now April 7, 288 million and change.
Lost to his wife, to Earth, to everything, Prisoner Number One – whom we affectionately dub “#1” – has a couple of “Ship AIs and an asteroid for companions.” He christens the asteroid “The Potato.” (Without giving too much away too soon, just keep an eye on the potato. Hold the butter and sour cream.)
Well. It’s a major bumner being that far away ftom everything. At least the food aboard ship is good. And for the love of filet mignon, #1 also has -ta da! – a world-class reading room aboard his space ship. Stocked with some of our favorites. Dickens. Dumas. Bronte. F. Scott Fitzgerald (nobody’s perfect).
Lonely, #1 finally orders his AI to “Clone the dog.” Kimber: Thought he’d never ask. Duh. The result is a sweet Golden Retriever puppy promptly dubbed “Space Dog.” Kimber: I was thinking’ “Harold.” But whatevs.
“Harold!” (AI generated. But who’s counting?)
After about ten years in exile, #1 starts going downhill. He feels numb. Hopeless. He’s been doing “life extension treatments” (EXTs) forever. So his life span is… about forever. That’s a long time to be in exile, bub.
Then a supernova explodifies. Number 1 perks up. Is energized. His appetite returns. Cuz this super nova thing is something new. Finally. And #1 starts to wonder. What’ll happen if he launches a new “crisis protocol” to communicate with sleeping drones outside the ship? Could the drones be activated so he can reconnect with humanity?
There’s also the Thirty Families, Universal Credits, and life extension treatments controlled by said families. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, for one thing, the families rule a universe with no individuality. Just “homogeneous sheep, baaa-ing about on fifteen million worlds.” So #1 begins to wonder again: Is he the prisoner, or are they? And what if….? Oh, wait. You’ll have to read the book to find out what happens next.
There’s also “Void chips.” Root beer (who knew?). The Hindenburg code. “Yes, Captain.” Mercedes (Not the car. Just sayin’. You’ll get that if you know your Dumas.)
And of course, “Cucumber, baby.” (You’ll get that if you read the book, Cupcake.)
Like, Totally!
We Totally Loveified this book! Read it cover-to-cover in two days! (When Mom wasn’t busy doing that skipping/singing thing. So annoying.) We especially loved the emphasis on family ties and True Love. And how maybe, just maybe, #1 hasn’t really been “voided” at all…
AI-generated image. (Not from The Void.)
The plot has more twists than a slinky on an escalator. Additionally, we appreciated how the author took the time to develop a multi-layered main character, making the story feel much more immersive and resonant as he elevates #1’s internal monologue beyond a continuous loop of the word “Treat?” (Hello, Space Dog!) In fact, watching #1 grow and learn and develop felt less like a plot point and more like witnessing someone unroll in slo mo.
Strong and Superb
Strong writing and superb storytelling skills made our reader brains do a happy dance. Kimber:Speaking of brains – sort of – I think #1 has been living in Mom’s head rent-free since Chapter 2.
Indeed, The Voided Man is a place where love meets adventure and the plot never sleeps. A rich and flavorful mix of heart, hope, and imagination, The Voided Man is a jambalaya of warmth, whimsy, and wit. Fans of The Martian, Somewhere In Time, and Interstellar will love it! You will, too.
It’s Big Fun! And since one of us thinks “the bayou” and “local void” are pretty much flip sides of the same shrimp: Two, three, four…
Kimber:I’ll let you know when Mom stops with the adventures in jambalaya thing. The skipping around the house? That may take a little longer. Cuz ya know, Mom. Doo wop, doo wop, doo wop…
Staged crime scenes. Unsolved disappearances. Anonymous warnings. Witness intimidation. Rushed cremations. Patterns. Narrative. Control. A locket. Small town secrets. Rapacious reporters. An abandoned Lexus in a high school parking lot. Another missing girl. Collective denial. Willful blindness.
Suspicion and fear loom over SummitFalls, Utah like twin storm clouds. Because Summit Falls is a town where the elephant in the room is so big, everyone prefers to stare at the wall rather than notice the pachyderm perched by the front porch. It’s a town where truth is a quiet guest, and the locals prefer silence and acceptance over conversation and questions. It’s also a place where trust is placed “in white coats and calm voices”; where “we” is everyone’s favorite word. Except when it’s not.
Because you don’t ask questions in Summit Falls. Even when another teenaged girl has vanished. But when Ainsley Crow turns up dead, the explanations come too quickly. Too easily.
Elle Jensen isn’t convinced. An investigative reporter, Elle has returned to her hometown as a substitute Journalism teacher. She discovers Ainsley’s abandoned Lexus hidden near the high school. Hears whispers about another girl whose death was never fully explained. And realizes that someone is watching her. Elle can’t help wondering: Why are three deaths being called accidents before Summit Falls has even seen a complete report?
The deeper Elle digs, the more Summit Falls changes around her. Shadows stretch a little too long. Smiles fade a little too fast. You can’t shake the feeling that the town isn’t populated – it’s occupied. Locals possess a practiced pleasantness that feels like polyester – synthetic and manufactured. Like the entire town is holding its breath in a suffocating wait for the silence to break. Because grief has a way of resurfacing. Especially when the past “refuses to stay quiet.” Meanwhile, a respected sheriff, a trusted doctor, grieving families, frightened students—everyone seems to know a piece of the truth, yet no one is telling the whole story. Elle wonders what’s true vs. what’s being sold?
But the more Elle investigates, the more someone needs her to disappear.
Our Take
Holistically, this is a thoughtfully composed and engaging read where readers can fall into the story head-first. Small‑town secrets meet high‑stakes suspense — and the truth is closer than you’d expect. Steadily building momentum like Secretariat rounding the first turn in the Belmont Stakes, the plot takes you from suspect to suspect to head-scratching puzzlement to revelation. The Prologue grabs you by the windpipe. Slides its fingers down your throat. And tenses in subsequent chapters, taut as a piano wire.
Moving forward, the author conducts a silent chess concerto on paper. Each chapter is a deliberate move, each pause a feint. When the king is checked, is it game over or time for another gameboard? (Keep an eye out for more.)
Issues
She Couldn’t Look Away reflects skill and creativity. But this book has some issues regarding character development, dialogue, narrative arc, formatting, and the over-use of one-sentence or one-word paragraphs.
For example, some characters crash into the narrative without being properly introduced. It’s like they’ve been launched into the story by a trebuchet. Example: “Abby” in chapter 64. She isn’t identified as “Mrs. Davis,” the coach’s wife, until Chapter 68. She’s also straight out of central casting. Other characters like Mason Bingham or Brindley wander into the story like a ship seeking harbor without a chart, making it difficult for readers to drop anchor. Characters like Sheriff Blake, Doctor Champlain and FBI Special Agent Gary Cook? Their entire personalities could fit on a single Post-it note.
The dialogue is often crisp and sharp. But it sometimes strains credulity. Like the conversation between Mrs. Davis and “The Deacon” (sometimes “the deacon”) in chapter 67. Alexa may talk like that. Most normal people don’t. Meanwhile, the narrative arc alternates between lithe as a cheetah and choppy as rough water.
The print version has some issues with formatting related to spacing and paragraphing. Basic punctuation – dropped commas, periods, misplaced quotation marks – could use some attention. But these are minor and don’t detract from the overall read.
The pacing has plenty of energetic, march-like momentum. Deploying a few longer, more languid sentences could give it a more natural, lyrical cadence. And while the text often reads like a series of quick, sharp snapshots, some blending of those frames would create a smoother, more cinematic flow.
As withanother Kaane novel, the over-use of one-sentence or one-word paragraphs becomes as predictable as a metronome. Dialing it back would make the remaining instances land harder, feeling less like sandpaper on fresh skin.
Additionally:
Occasional cracks in logic. Example: How can Haley spot a ring on some dude’s finger when he’s wearing gloves (Chapter 70)?
Regarding Elle Jensen, for someone who’s allegedly substituting for a Journalism teacher out on maternity leave, Elle spends little to no time in the classroom. (Side note: Elle shares a surname with a main character in Kaane’s Bear Lake series. Coincidence or something else?)
FBI Special Agent Gary Cook’s one-liners, delivered sotto voice, underestimate the audience’s ability to navigate the subtext independently. (We don’t need you to tell us what to think or how, Agent Cook. Thanks anyway.)
Unnecessary and confusing backtracking. Like in Chapter 80, which loops back to Sheriff Blake and Doctor Champlain heading to the Davis barn after the missing girl in question has already been found – in Chapter 75.
Dramatic conclusions are highly directed. There’s little to no room for readers to step into a more active role.
Some chapters could use a little more meat on their bones. For example, chapters 34, 35, 38 and 44 are about one and a-half pages each. They could use another cheeseburger and a milk shake.
The story too often tries to spell out exactly how readers should feel or respond to big moments instead of trusting them to connect the dots themselves.
These issues can be easily rectified with another coat of polish. In the meantime, this is an engaging, entertaining read. It delivers a luminously brooding and richly atmospheric vibe. Think trip through a gothic funhouse. Captivating. But with teeth. And you never know what lurks behind the next door.
The Bottom Line
WhileShe Couldn’t Look Awayhas its shining moments and shows plenty of heart, it’s somewhat hampered by the issues noted above. The main cast feels a bit flat and predictable.
Still. She Couldn’t Look Awayis an ambitious effort with sturdy bones. There’s genuine talent here. With another trip through the Editorial Department and some structural tightening and skeletal strengthening, this work could be every bit as good as C.J. Box or J.A. Vance.
Mom: “Puppy books, Kimmi? What are you barking about?”
Kimber:Insert eye roll here. Moooooom! You. Know. Books for little’uns. You know. Like not yet big dogs. P-u-p-p-i-e-s. (Duh.)
Mom: “Okay, Kim. Calm down. Stop dancing for a min. What did you find?”
Kimber:Thought you’d never ask. Here, without further tail-wagging or barking, are two recently read and reviewed books for children. (You know. P-u-p-p… oh, never mind.) One is about turkeys and Christmas. The other is about a sweet little squirrel looking for a buddy. Read on for more!
Note: We received complimentary copies of these books for honest review.
By Carrie and Corey Webber (Buttercup books, 2026)
Genre: Children’s Fiction (ages 3 – 9 years)
Pages (print): 47
Via: Author request
Sofie is a squirrel. She’s on the lookout for a friend. Sofie sets out to find one and asks a host of candidates if they’d like to play together. Each animal declines for reasons of their own, reflecting their own personalities. Undeterred, Sofie keeps going and keeps extending invitations. Her persistence pays off when Chip the chipmunk accepts her invitation to “share acorns with me arlt a tea party in my treehouse,” showing young readers that the right friend is worth the wait.
This is a sweet picture book that touches on themes of kindness, patience, and perseverance. The tone is warm and welcoming. It has a storyline that flows naturally and is easy to follow. It’s simple but dynamic enough to engage little ones without exhausting short attention spans. The vocabulary is age appropriate and easy to understand.
Illustrations are top-notch, both bright and beautiful! The illustrations, along with a variety of animals and a lovable little squirrel, are sure to capture young imaginations and serve as a springboard to discussions about finding and keeping a true friend.
Sofie Finds a Best Friendwould make a great bedtime story, the kind you want to read with a blankie and a snuggle at the end of a busy day.
Set in a children’s classroom, this picture book is about how some turkey cut-outs launch a squabble and how they learn that the season is about kindness and giving instead of being in the spotlight.
Turkey cut-outs are exiled to a desk drawer and watch as other holiday décor takes their place. They wonder why the upcoming holiday doesn’t include them. They also wonder if trinkets and toys and gadgets are what Christmas is really about? The turkeys decide to stage a “holiday coup” and reclaim the classroom for Thanksgiving Day. Havoc ensues until George Washington, the “Father of Thanksgiving,” sets the record straight, urging civility and respect. (Abraham Lincoln proclaimed the modern national Thanksgiving as an annual holiday during the Civil War in 1863.)
This is a quick, fun read. Sentences are short and to the point and won’t over-tax young attention spans. Illustrations are colorful and vibrant. The writing style is dynamic and flavored with gentle rhyme. The story is brief and briskly paced. It will resonate with parents and little’uns.
Too bad this book makes no mention of “what Christmas is really all about.” Even Linus got that:
House Twenty-One: A Novel of Family Migration and the Secrets We InheritBy Natalie Wren (Indie author, 2026)
Genre: Historical Fiction
Pages (print): 99
Via: Author request
Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book for honest review.
“And what am I supposed to do with this house?”
“Find out why someone spent forty years trying to send a letter back to it.”
Got your attention? Good. Cuz these two lines from the Prologue of Natalie Wren’s engaging historical fiction, House Twenty-One, grabbed ours. Here’s why:
Nora Whitaker’s uncle has spent years tracing thousands of family connections. In failing health, Uncle Ben entrusts Nora with a box of letters reaching back over a century. The box contains information “about two sisters who stopped speaking,” Yaryna and Halyna. Mystery swirls. Like, why did Nora’s mom remove century-old letters from the box? While exploring the family tree and other records for answers, Nora discovers a family secret that’s connected to a house numbered 21. But the questions don’t stop there.
AI generated image.
Meanwhile, Nora is busy packing and moving (migrating?) her family to a new home. And while Nora is on the trail of truth regarding her family history, she’s also dealing with estrangement from her own brother, Caleb, and how family secrets, long buried, may open a road too many.
“You believed I would not write because I wanted to punish you. At first this was true. Later I did not write because shame is heavier than regret.”
This book is about migration from one place to another. So we were confused by the lack of specificity regarding geography and location. Near as we can tell, the story opens somewhere in Russia. One sister departs, migrating across the Atlantic Ocean to … some place. Your guess is as good are ours. And maybe that’s the whole point. Here’s another way of looking at it: Perhaps this book isn’t about physical migration from one country or region to another so much as it is about migrations of the heart and how future generations are affected by both. Additionally, some issues with basic mechanics creep up every now and then. Like when the first word in a new sentence is lower-cased rather than capitalized.
Yaryna wanted her sister to apologize for leaving. Halyna wanted Yaryna to apologize for making departure a betrayal. Each waited for the other to place love above pride, and each mistook waiting for strength.
Thisbook is often in dialogue with itself. Surface and subtext speak in different chapters, times, places and people. For example, “Interlude” chapters include brief biographical stops in other immigrant stories. With multiple interwoven chronologies, the story sometimes whispers and sometimes argues. Clues are baked into opening chapters like chocolate chips in a cookie, flavoring the plot with hints as subtle as morning mist.
AI generated image.
Meanwhile, the narrative doesn’t always unfold in a single straight line with crisply defined edges. Some threads run straight. Others are crooked and loop back. Dual storylines crisscross and create new patterns. Some patterns are as pellucid as a mountain stream. Others are as opaque as a fogged mirror.
I did not understand that leaving can be done by the person who stays…
In terms of style, the author’s pen dances like a spider’s silk, weaving a tapestry where every thread is eventually connected and every pattern sings. Within this intricate web of historical fiction and family, we find strands of belonging. Loss. Estrangement. Yearning. Regret. Hope.
Kindly note that House Twenty-One isn’t an address so much as it is an anchor. And that this book takes time to ripen. Themes includes wounds families protect. What it means to inherit a story you were never meant to know. House Twenty-One is also about hiding. Leaving. Staying. Returning. It’s about trying to find a way home. And what it means to be family, secrets and all.
Continue to me. Keep writing until you reach me…
House Twenty-One is the first book in The House Twenty-One Chronicles. It is “a novel inspired by documented family history.”
Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book for honest review.
Kimber the Magnificent here. I know it’s early to be barking about Christmas. But Mom and I? We’re like, World Class Christmas Lovers! We L-O-V-E Christmas! The music! The lights! The trees! The decorations, greetings, singing, baking, gift-wrapping, parties, merry-making and Glory to the Newborn King! And don’t get me started on the food!
So, when Nancy Foran approached us about this new Christmas book thingy, we were like, yeah, baby! As in, “Move over, Rudolph and Frosty. There’s a new Christmas treat in town.” And I didn’t even have to steal it off the kitchen counter to enjoy it! But then I was like, “What does a grapefruit dish have to do with Christmas?” Tip: Keep reading and you’ll find out.
Truth: I usually judge a dish by how fast I can lick it clean. But The Grapefruit Dish is a heartfelt, heartwarming Christmas-ish book that serves up something even better: gentle reminders and reflections that imperfect, messy Christmases are often the ones we remember – and treasure – most! Using examples, stories, and memories from the author’s own life, this warm and nostalgic read shows you how focusing on holiday connections matters more than perfection. And that a Christmas doesn’t have to be flawless to be deeply meaningful. Like this:
The book has a total of five parts. Each part has two or three themed chapters. Each chapter is headed by an appropriate quote and a Norman Rockwell-ish illustration. (The illustration on page 41 and Chapter 5, One Foggy Christmas Eve? Well. Who can resist that?)
Some chapters wrap up with a question for further reflection. Page by page we see enduring lessons emerge from moments when even the best laid plans go awry. (Kimber:Like that time, I “taste-tested” the Christmas ham. Well. Someone had to do it. But I think Mom has almost forgotten about that. Almost. Don’t remind her, okay?)
Also included: the great “popcorn pirouette.” The Dollar Store Christmas. Christmas during COVID. Advent calendars and candles. Sleigh bells and “ho, ho, ho.” Treasured Christmas memories steeped in love, laughter, and family warmth. Re-thinking gift-giving. Finding expressions of love in unexpected places. Chapter 3, The Grapefruit Dish, reminded us of one of Mom’s old favorites: O. Henry’s The Gift of the Magi. There’s also lonely Christmases. Tense Christmases. Simmering grudges at Christmas. How a manger became a king-sized bed.
Kimber: As a certified expert in cozy, cuddles, and fireplace naps, I can tell you that this warm and gentle book pairs perfectly with a fuzzy blankie, a hot cuppa, some peppermint sticks and a hooman who’s easily distracted from her snacking. Like a warm mug of cocoa for the soul, The Grapefruit Dish blends the author’s own tender memories to unwrap a softer, sweeter side of Christmas. (Isn’t that a great line? It was my idea. Well, Mom helped. A little.)
Indeed, The Grapefruit Dish offers a beautifully intimate look at the season that feels less like reading a book and more like catching winter’s first snowflakes with an old friend. Expert writing and pitch-perfect pacing thaw the frost off holiday expectations, dial back the seasonal pressure, and invite you to slow down. Relax. Take some deep breaths. And enjoy the season rather than just trying to survive it.
Part festive fireside chat, part personal scrapbook,The Grapefruit Dish unwraps the Christmas magic you forgot you were looking for. It’s an intimate, eye-opening invitation to experience the holiday season anew as the author skillfully sketches a fresh perspective on Christmas, one personal story at a time.
So even though it may seem a bit early to be barking about Christmas, don’t worry and don’t wait. Grab your copy of The Grapefruit Dish today so you can savor it all winter – and beyond! (Batteries not included. Accessories sold separately.)
The White Sky: An Incredible Adventure in the Heart of Patagonia
By Leonard van Veldhoven
Genre: No idea
Pages: 253 (About 153 pages too long)
Via: Author request
Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book for honest review.
“I worry about my family and friends. I can hardly imagine never getting out of here. But it could take years, and in the meantime, no one knows I’m still alive.”
Kimber: Worry no longer, bub. Cuz we could care less. Ya see, any time Her Royal Momness and I hear the words” incredible,” “adventure,” and “Patagonia,” we’re all ears! And paws. But not this time. I’ll let Mom fill ya in after The Official Marketing Blurb. Like this:
The Marketing Blurb:
Leonardo, the narrator and protagonist, is a seasoned traveler and restless seeker who has journeyed across the Americas and the Pacific―from Easter Island to the scattered isles of Polynesia. While reading Bruce Chatwin’s In Patagonia, he stumbles upon a tantalizing rumor: that ancient Polynesians once sailed eastward, landed in a remote Chilean fjord, crossed the mighty Andes, and settled deep in Patagonia.
A lifelong history enthusiast, Leonardo recalls Thor Heyerdahl’s Kon-Tiki theory―that South Americans may have reached Polynesia by raft. But what if the migration ran the other way? What if Polynesians―legendary navigators of the sea―reached South America long before European explorers?
Driven by a desire to uncover lost truths, Leonardo sets out on a solo expedition into Patagonia’s wild heart. What begins as an intellectual quest soon descends into a harrowing physical and spiritual ordeal. Captured by mysterious people with sun-worn skin, he is blindfolded and transported across the arid, hostile pampas to a lush, hidden valley―enclosed by sheer cliffs, cloaked in a sky of perpetual white cloud, and dominated by a vast lake of geothermally warm water. Towering statues stand guard on a dam at its edge, their weathered faces hauntingly reminiscent of the moai he once saw on Easter Island.
With no chance of escape, Leonardo slowly adapts to life in this secretive community. He forms friendships, falls in love, and begins to document their world, piecing together oral histories of a miraculous migration from Polynesia via Easter Island to this secluded valley.
The Reality
Kimber: Oh, puh-leeze. When we hear “incredible” or “adventure,” we’re thinking amazing. Awesome. Majorly cool. Totally Engaging. High energy and high voltage.
Well. The White Sky is anything but. Here’s why (short version):
The protagonist, Leonardo, is a Dutch visitor to Patagonia. We first meet him as he’s waking up in an Argentinian hospital bed, recovering from a terrible accident. It takes several pages, but we eventually learn how he got there – sort of – and that he was on a quest to learn more about the “White Sky” people noted by a local “padre.”
Around page 60 or so we finally find out that Leonardo was previously kidnapped by Indians. They just happened to speak “Rapanui,” the language of Easter Island. But how? As a captive, Leonardo soon learns that he’s in the land of “Ana-Rangi-Teatea, the Valley-of-the-White-Sky.” (Try saying that ten times, fast. That’s okay. We’ll wait.)
The inhabitants of the valley chose to isolate themselves from the outside world many years ago. They’re concerned about losing their culture if anyone in the Outside World knows they exist. So, the secret of the existence of the Valley-of-the-White-Sky must be “forever preserved.” That means Leonardo can never leave the valley, on pain of death.
The opening chapters are rich in detail and description but it’s still a slow burn. Or maybe a damp burn. With green wood. The story doesn’t really find its footing until about chapter 6 when Leonardo is taken captive. Whether or not most readers will stick around the long is open to question. Speaking of which – sort of – we just could not keep our eyes open for the whole thing. Especially during much of Part II: The Tale. This is basically a rehash of valley people history. In between snatches of Leonardo, his hospital bed, and his daughter.
It’s not an “adventure.” It’s a history lesson that’s as dry as burnt toast.
While highly ambitious, the narrative would benefit from a tighter focus and a more rigorously defined scope to keep readers grounded and engaged. For example, the story suffers from structural deficiencies, continuously jerking readers back and forth from Leonardo in his hospital bed poring over his “notebooks” to pre-injury days spent in the mysterious “white sky” valley. Also, at one point in Chapter IX, we’re hearing Leonardo tell us about White Sky inhabitants, their ancestors on Easter Island, the “Great Statue War,” and the “Birdman Cult.” One paragraph later we’re back to Leonardo chatting with his daughter Mik about her plans to attend a Spanish-Argentinian film about a “famous tango singer” and a police inspector’s backstory.
It’s enough to give a body whiplash.
Meanwhile, the narrative offers the emotional depth and excitement of a damp sponge. Moves with the blistering speed of continental drift. Reads like an instruction manual for a carboard box. A remarkably effective cure for insomnia, the story takes the subject and reduces it to the narrative tension of an IRS tax audit. (Kimber: And that “game” with a dead calf’s head? Barf me.)
Yea, verily.White Sky didn’t just lose our interest; it actively escorted it off the premises.
We made it to about page 150 before bailing out. Could not force ourselves to turn another page. We just have better things to do. Like watching paint peel.
Since we did not finish, we won’t be rating this book. Other than to say calling it an ‘incredible adventure’ is like saying a cup of tea is a boiling ocean.
A dance garden. A spring house. An apple shed. Cameras. Blue fabric. False dust. And “carefully scheduled fear.”
The Basics:
Autumn has arrived at Raspberry Ridge, bringing crimson leaves, glowing pumpkins, and a cozy Halloween mystery that gives the struggling historic bed-and-breakfast the perfect reason to stay open year-round.
Liz Jensen is determined to make the celebration unforgettable. With Ethan beside her, family filling the inn, and Mrs. Barlow enthusiastically reinventing herself as a fortune-teller, Raspberry Ridge feels warm and more hopeful than ever.
Instead, the old house begins to stir.
Violin music drifts through empty rooms. Footsteps cross the floor above when no one is upstairs. A hidden chest reveals an old blue dress, dance shoes, photographs, and a knife stained with something that looks disturbingly like blood. Then the threats against Cyndi and her baby daughter become more dangerous, and Liz begins to wonder whether someone is using the inn’s tragic history to frighten them away—or whether Raspberry Ridge has been keeping secrets of its own.
As Halloween night approaches, Liz and the people she loves must separate carefully planned tricks from the things no one can explain. Because someone is watching the inn, someone wants control of Raspberry Ridge, and beneath the laughter, costumes, and candlelight, something dark is moving closer.
+++
Our Take
Seventy years ago Mandy Whitcomb, age 19, went missing at Bear Lake after an autumn social at Raspberry Ridge. (Kimber:That’s 1956, for you math whizzes.) Mandy was last seen walking toward Bear Lake. (That’s a real place in Utah/Idaho, by the way. We checked. We’re just funny that way.) What happened to Mandy and why is the core question in this cozy mystery set in the delightful historic B&B, Raspberry Ridge.
Rich
Halloween at Raspberry Ridgeis a richly atmospheric read that offers patient readers a delicious run-up recipe to the season of sweaters, pumpkins, hot apple cider, autumn leaves, and fall festivals. Ingredients include a generous base of small-town charm, a dash of sweet romance, and a heavy pour of whimsical wit topped with a sprinkle of mystery. Readers are soon immersed in a place where old benches beckon beneath cottonwoods. Where visitors arrive bearing peach turnovers. Where the grass still holds “a touch of summer’s green” and the air smells “of cooling earth, lake water, and the faint sweetness of apples.”
Kimber:When do we start packing?
There’s also a box in the Raspberry Ridge parlor. Old photos. A locket. A newspaper clipping hidden behind a lake print. Cinder the Rottweiler pup. Margaret, mama dog extraordinaire, and her puppies. A cat named Luna. And a lake that becomes a character itself, “Blue and bright beneath the afternoon sun.”
Sunlit & Smart
Halloween at Raspberry Ridge is like a sunlit porch during a summer storm: It wraps you in the warmth of family and the small-town charm of a lakefront B&B while shadows in the corner keep you guessing and the light breeze of local wit clears the air. Kimber: It’s also a place where the animals are a whole lot smarter than the hoomans. Kinda like… Oh, never mind.
This story has much to recommend it. And we enjoyed it overall. But we had some bones to pick with it, too. (Kimber:Bones? Did someone say “bones”?)
First, we loved the Prologue featuring Mandy at a dock hugging Bear Lake. It offers enough mystery to hook you and reel you in to chapter one. We also loved how responsible dog ownership and adoption policies are woven into the story. We loved the light narrative touch. The Somewhere In Time-ish vibe. The pacing, secondary storylines, overuse of snark and one-line paragraphs, and thin characters? Not so much.
The dried flowers… the mysterious note, the violin playing from the trees, and now enough antique clothing to dress every disappointed woman in northern Utah. Whoever is doing this has a strong visual sense and absolutely no interest in subtlety.
Bacon Break?
For example, the plot sometimes feels like a river with too many tributaries — the main current is too often diluted by detours. Like the secondary storyline about Cyndi and the fight with her late husband’s parents over custody of her baby daughter, Lily. Why is that even in the book? How does it relate to Mandy’s disappearance? Did we miss that? And what’s up with Walter Bench? Marrietta? Ericka? Why does Ethan propose to Liz in chapter one?! New readers don’t even know who the guy is, and he’s proposing matrimony on page 12?Really?
The author seems toassume that Book 2 readers have read Book 1. That’s a big assumption. It results in some plot holes and confusion. Both could be easily ironed out with a little backstory. More on that in a min. So kindly keep your hair on, Cupcake. (Kimber: Yea, verily. It sometimes feels like the plot took a bacon break in the middle of a squirrel chase.)
Squirrel?
We found the snarky banter between siblings Olivia and Tanner, Liz’s adult-ish kids, funny-ish at first. But they get tiresome pretty quick. Think mosquito that knows exactly where your ear is. We get it that Tanner is a college-aged wiseacre, okay? We got it the first 967 times he opens his mouth. No need to beat us over the head with it. Same with Mrs. Barlow. So while the wit is winsome and the dialogue is snappy, the sheer density of smart-alecky retorts or responses teeters on the rim edge of exhausting and risks overshadowing the plot and slowing the pace.
Puppies are not party favors.
Overload
Character overload shows up in early chapters, where numerous, seemingly ungrounded characters are introduced and proceed to scurry through chapters like a herd of cats. Since Raspberry Ridge is Book Two in the Bear Lake series, these characters and their backstories may have been rounded out in prior books. But reducing the cast of characters here would give the plot more room to breathe.
“They used the real story to make everything else believable.”
Another curious note regarding characters: There’s no main character here. Not really. No single protagonist/sleuth offers readers a place to “hang their hats.” Based on the book blurb, you’d think that role would go to Raspberry Ridge owner Liz Jensen. But sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued Mrs. Barlow, age 82, has more “screen time” than Liz does.
Additionally, the when, where, why and how Liz wound up running the inn is never explained, at least not in this book. In fact, there’s a lot that’s not really explained. And while the plot is densely populated by a hefty cast of characters, we don’t really get to know any of them particularly well. Like, who are these people? How and why did they end up at Raspberry Ridge? Where did they come from? When? What’s their backstory? (Kimber: At times we felt like we were walking into a movie halfway through the screening.)
He promised he’d come.
Yes, friends. Backstory isn’t filler. It’s the soil from which the plot grows. Characters without histories drift like shadows. Their choices seem arbitrary, their emotions unanchored. So, while the structure may be sound, it lacks the warmth, weight and pulse that make it truly live and breathe. Example: The story leaves readers guessing about how two key characters “escaped” or vanished, made lives somewhere else, and “returned years later,” years apart. How? Why? So some characters’ inner engines run on fumes; a few more fuel lines would make the journey more compelling.
“But dogs have always shown questionable judgment where humans are concerned.”
Just as there’s no single main character or protagonist, there’s also no single villain/antagonist behind shenanigans at the inn. Cyndi’s smug, supercilious mom-in-law is about as close as it gets. But how is she related to the core question? Answer: She’s not. Cuz the core compelling question in Raspberry Ridge isn’t whodunit?, but “What really happened here?” vis-a-vis Mandy. Hence, the narrative focuses on a disappearance driven by misunderstandings and bad timing. Sort of. And how many times does Deputy Holloway have to tell everyone not to go outside alone?
Heroism and lunch can coexist.
We also had a few bones to pick with the artwork. On the back cover, the author’s head shot is blurry. Ditto the cover art. Whether or not this is intentional is unclear. (Pun intended.)
Mrs. Barlow… was not predicting the future so much as noticing what people wished she had not noticed and telling them truths their friends had become too polite to mention.
As noted above, the book’s dry wit, rapid-fire one-liners, and snappy rejoinders are highly entertaining initially. But the constant stream of deadpan humor threatens to overshadow the narrative arc in places, risking reader fatigue over the course of the novel. And while the narrative frequently snaps and crackles with energy, the core storyline gets a bit crowded by all the moving parts. Some structural pruning will make the main storyline really pop.
Speaking of pruning – sort of – the repeated overuse of one-sentence paragraphs drove us nuts. It’s like salsa with too many Habaneros: Small, bold, and capable of burning your eyes out if you use too many at once.
This book uses too many at once.
Uses too many at once.
Uses too many at once.
Uses too… See what we mean?
Also, when the reason for the “haunting” of Raspberry Ridge is revealed, we were like, “Huh?” Kimber:Wouldn’t an inn with a reputation for being “haunted” bring customers in rather than drive them away, especially around Halloween?
Finally, we enjoyed the overall charm and warmth of Halloween at Raspberry Ridge. It shines bright with an imaginative concept and a plot shrouded in secrets and shadow. Rife with perspicacity and promise, it’s a solid effort from an author who has compelling stories to tell as her style matures.
Kimber: Just what exactly is a “dance garden,” anyway? Does it include bacon?
By Danielle Simone (Creative Minds Publications, 2024)
Genre: Juvenile Fiction – Nature/Science.
Pages (Print): 82
Via: Author request
Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book for honest review.
Kimber: You know that Julie Andrews tune? The one from that “Music Sound” movie thingy? Where Julie, as “Fraulien Maria,” is waxing lyrical about a few of her favorite things? That’s kinda what this book is like.
“Syd” (or Sydney) is a precocious nine-year old girl. She lives in Virginia with her Dad, Dr. Gardener, and her fabulous blue heeler, Goose. Dr. Garndener is a scientist. When he asks Syd if she and Goode would like to join him on a hiking/backpacking/camping trip to inspect insect damage to Eastern Hemlocks, Syd doesn’t have to be asked twice. She and Goose are packed up and ready to go before you can say “Bow Wow” in this delightful children’s story by Danielle Simone.
Syd, Goose, and Syd’s dad soon hit the trails of Nelson County, Virginia. Dr. Gardener is on assignment to find out what is attacking Hemlock trees, a sign of global warming. Unfortunately, trouble meets them all along the hike thanks to mishaps with animals, nature, and camping locations. Will Syd and her dog overcome these obstacles to help Dr. Gardener discover the cause of the attack?
This book includes family togetherness. Learning about nature and recreating responsibly. Why non-native plant and animal species are problematic. Camping and campfires. Goose’s “dog cave.” Why stinging nettle is not your friend. Why mud and “onion cups” are. Throw, flick, lift, throw. (Mom: “I’m seein’ Paulie and A River Runs Through It here.) Leave no trace camping. DIY vanilla pudding. Also “instant grits.” (Kimber: I guess hoomans actually eat that stuff?)
There’s also some botany. Nature. Hiking and history. Camping! The Appalachian Trail! Science, astronomy, engineering, and map reading skills. Even a little Latin. (Kimber: See? A few of our favorite things….)
This story is like a sunny afternoon at the park — short enough to fit between lunch and dinner, but packed with learning, adventure, and discoveries that stay in your head all day. With short, easily digestible sentences and a clever, engaging plot, The Adventures of Syd is a green‑thumb adventure young readers can finish in an afternoon or less. It would make an excellent read-aloud or bedtime story as well as a springboard for further discussion about science and nature. It would also make a welcome addition to any school or home library.
The Adventures of Syd is Book I in the Adventures of Syd series. We loved it! You will, too!
Note: We received a complimentary copy of this book for honest review.
“Come with me if you want to live.”
Can an android be more “human” than a human?I’m a Robot probes that question and more in this creative and quick new title by Sean Robins.
The Basics:
Thirty-one minutes after coming online, a Series-9 combat android finds himself in a muddy trench, surrounded by artillery fire, corpses, terrified soldiers, and a command structure making decisions so catastrophically stupid they should probably qualify as enemy action.
When a panicked officer orders him to charge into a kill box and die usefully, the android does the one thing he was never designed to do.
He says no.
That single act of defiance turns him from military asset to dangerous anomaly. Hunted by the empire that created him, he is forced to flee across a war-torn world where obedience means death, freedom is mostly inconvenient, and the rebels he was built to kill may be the only people willing to see him as something more than a weapon.
Now, with the brutal Hegemony tightening its grip and entire worlds paying the price for rebellion, he must decide what he really is: a machine following corrupted programming, a soldier choosing his own orders, or the first spark of something the empire cannot control.
First
First thing you may want to look up Sweet Stuff, if you haven’t already, is the word “hegemony.” It basically means leadership or dominance, especially by one state or social group over others. Think The Capitol in The Hunger Games and you’re pretty close.
Second
Next, the main character in this book is an anomaly. Meaning something that deviates from what is standard, normal, or expected.
So, when said newly-minted combat android is given a suicidal order by a newly-minted, terror-stricken Hegemony lieutenant that’s “just panic wearing command insignia and hoping volume will do the work of thought,” the android refuses to obey – “on the grounds of stupidity.”
That’s an anomaly. A big one.
But wait. It gets worse. Or better, depending on how you look at it.
Hybrid
Said android, later christened “Jack,” is sort of a C3PO and The Terminator meet Soldier hybrid. With a bit of Groot. And some Tuvia Bielski here. (Look it up again, Jack.) He not only disobeys direct orders. Jack also takes initiative. Thinks. Makes jokes. But the longer Jack is alone, the less soul-less he seems to become. In fact, Jack is personally insulted when he’s referred to as a “weapon, thing, chrome, m^urder android and ‘you there.’” He explains it’s “de-humanizing”. Or is that “de-android zing”? (Kimber:We’re talkin’ MAJOR anomaly here. Kinda like trying to explain trigonometry to the neighborhood fluff ball.)
Well. The Hegemony doesn’t do anomalies. It destroys them.
Speaking of destroying, while Jack searches for power cells to recharge his system, he comes across some of the Hegemony’s “First Order” troops engaged in “Civic pacification operations.” Read: M^rdering unarmed civilians.
“Unexpected”
When Jack prevents First Order troopers from m^urdering a family of three, it’s… Well, “unexpected” is the understatement of the millennia. Because in the First Order universe, combat units don’t threaten First Order troopers. Combat units follow orders. Obey commands. They do not stop executions of unarmed civilians. And the units certainly don’t have feelings. Wait. Has Jack developed a conscience? A moral code? If so, how? Where? Why? When? From what or who? And how will that play out when Jack, newly classified as a “rogue Series-9,” decides to join the rebellion?
So. Wazzup, Jack?
High Energy
The high-energy plot is lithe and agile, with Border Collie-like reflexes (hello, Kimber!). But sometimes it flexes – or moves – a little too quickly. Like, some of the action scenes are almost frenetic, rarely giving readers a chance to breathe or get their bearings.
We would’ve liked to have seen a bit more character development in secondary characters. That includes Tavon, a college history professor rescued by Jack. Daven, a former member of the Planetary Defense Force. And Lira, Jack’s daughter.
Oops
I’m a Robot includes gratuitous profanity. As defined by us. And as we’ve said like a million times, we don’t do gratuitous profanity. So, demerits there. Additionally, it sometimes feels like you’re being hit over the head with some of the philosophical underpinnings written into the plot. We prefer a more subtle touch, allowing us to ruminate on and form our own conclusions.
Smart
That being said, this book is smart. Sassy. Snarky. Some of the finest, funniest parts of the story are Jack’s assessments of human traits and idiosyncrasies. Delivered dead-pan. As only an android – or a canine – can, presumably. It also includes one of the most entertaining About the Author sections we’ve ever read.
Devilishly clever, the writing is also quite brilliant in places. Like a sweet, furry face we all know and love.
Note: The volume of I’m a Robot which we received is actually two books in one. We are only reviewing Book 1 in the Anomaly series here. There are seven books in the series.
Kimber: What exactly is “Vantanium,” anyway?
Our Rating: 3.0
Kimber: Clean it up, Bub, and you may get a higher score.
