Carr's books make me feel happy. Her characters are human, lovable, and eccentric, and in the end they do right by one another. I am eager to read the next two books in this trilogy, and if I owned this book and hadn't just checked it out of the library, I would keep it.
I didn't feel much sympathy for Tempe; I'm not middle-aged, I'm not a recovering alcoholic, I don't have children. I didn't learn much of use about the book's setting; street name upon street name does not a description make. I wasn't frightened at any point; the book is the first in a series, so we know Tempe makes it through the book alive. Finally, the writing was a bit over-the-top in places, as is typical of the genre. I won't continue with this series.
I stayed up until 1:30 a.m. to finish this book and I was not disappointed. Carr did a good job bringing closure to the many stories she told in all three books without just listing each character's fate line by line. Let me repeat, I really enjoyed these books.
This is the first full-length book by Ann Rule that I've read, but it won't be the last. What a twisted tale of abuse, legal wrangling, and brutal murder. Rule begins at the very beginning, with her main characters' parents' marriages, and walks us through Sheila's and Allen's lives apart, together, and apart again. Unlike a novelist, Rule cannot spring a surprise ending on her readers, so she must keep us enthralled by writing well, and she does.
Once in awhile a book seems to jump off the bookshelf into my arms and it is just the book I need right then. Wick's latest offers more than its fair share of grief and healing, a gentle double romance, and a family I would be pleased to have as my own. Wick's greatest gift is found in the families she creates, who talk, tease, laugh, pray, and cry together. Perhaps life never was as idyllic as Wick implies, but her latest story still left me feeling warm inside.
Interesting to read, not too gory, not too long, with an excellent index and bibliography. Unfortunately, Michaud is a terrible writer. I already wrote a livejournal post about Michaud's poor word and punctuation choices, so I'll not repeat it here.
Fluffy historical fiction, most appropriate for elementary-school readers. Lacked the depth of A Parcel of Patterns, also about an epidemic, also written for a young-adult audience. Of course, I didn't care for Anderson's novel Speak either.
Egginton offers a devastating critique of a society in which a woman clearly suffering from mental illness could give birth to eight children (and adopt one) and murder all but one of them (and that one died, in a roundabout way, because of Tinning's actions, but the author does not explain this until page 337, at the end of the book). When Andrea Yates murdered her children, Anna Quindlen wrote an incredible essay in Newsweek, asking all mothers to admit how close they themselves had come to murdering their own children at one time or another. The difference in the two cases, however, is that Yates committed one horrendous act; Tinning, nine. I for one am glad that Tinning is in prison for at least another three years from now.
I am grateful that God kept nudging me to give Janette Oke's books one more chance. I had read all but two of the Women of the West books about ten years ago, but when I re-read the first two books last year, I found myself disappointed: The books were not just simple and sweet, but simplistic and saccharine. This book, on the other hand, was grittier and more real; the characters actually struggle with God's plans for their lives, as do most of us here in the real world. I did have a question or two about Oke's definition of pemmican (I think she meant jerky) and her use of outlandish dialects for the outlaws and the Native Americans, but the book was still satisfying, at least spiritually.
Here is a novel (actually two novellas) to restore my faith in Christian authors and a romance to restore my faith in romances. These stories made me smile. When I read the first story, set in Michigan, I remembered my own family's vacation trip to Mackinac Island. The second story is not as strong on setting, but moves quickly. A terrific "fluffy" read overall.
This book is not a mystery so much as a thick and satisfying historical fiction novel with my favorite focus: the upheavals of history through women's eyes. The midwife Hannah, though anachronistically feminist, with her short hair and refusal to share "her" daughter with her daughter's father, lives a life as chaotic as any in the time just after the Revolutionary War. She is strongly loved, not only by her daughter's father, but by her family and a few good friends, including her cousin Jonathan; she is also beaten by a mob, and she is the female witness to all of the district's autopsies, as well as caring for the dead and not just the living as a nurse-midwife. This book is one I'd recommend to fans of Sharyn McCrumb's historical mysteries. First in a trilogy; sequels include Blood Red Roses and The Burning Bride.
I like Carr's writing, but I liked her other books better than this one. It had too many characters to keep track of throughout the novel, and a couple of plot lines also appeared in Blue Skies (a cheating airline-pilot husband, domestic violence), lessening their impact here. Mostly I am sorry that I have read all of Carr's novels that I have gotten my hands on, and now I have none to look forward to.
These short stories are lightly connected; taken together, they describe the evolution of robots and their evolving place in human society. They are not exciting in terms of adventure, but are best read as a history of robotics as it might have unfolded. Now I want to see the movie.
The title story in this collection is riveting. Rule does not need to remind us again and again that Steve Bonilla is a frightening man and Susan Harris is very, very lucky to be alive; Bonilla's actions tell the story for her. The other four cases are almost as interesting, if much, much shorter. Ann Rule's Crime Files, #4.
This book offers interesting examples of criminal profiling and how it works, step-by-step instructions for "molester-proofing" your children, and a profile of the murderer of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman that nails O.J. But most of the crimes described in this book are older and less famous, so I did not find it as riveting in that way as Cases That Haunt Us.
I am hoping that as I continue to re-read Oke's Women of the West books, her writing will continue to improve, but then again, I may just let this goal go and only choose to re-read books that I know hold up well over time. This book, as with The Calling of Emily Evans, did not.