Not Enough Time For Books
Saturday, January 20, 2024
Listen for the Lie by Amy Tintera
Monday, January 1, 2024
Mercury by Amy Jo Burns
This is the story of the Joseph family: Mick, Elise, and their three sons, Baylor, Waylon and Shay. The father and sons run a roofing business in the town of Mercury, PA while Elise runs the home and is basically invisible, taken for granted by her husband and sons.
Newcomer Marley and her mother, Ruth, arrive in Mercury and Marley inserts herself into the Joseph family, looking for the stability she craves. What follows is an in depth look into the family dynamics and Marley's role to all of the members of the family. I don't want to give too much away, because her position in the family changes all through the book.
Here's a synopsis directly from Goodreads:
A roofing family’s bonds of loyalty are tested when they uncover a long-hidden secret at the heart of their blue-collar town―from Amy Jo Burns, author of the critically acclaimed novel Shiner
It’s 1990 and seventeen-year-old Marley West is blazing into the river valley town of Mercury, Pennsylvania. A perpetual loner, she seeks a place at someone’s table and a family of her own. The first thing she sees when she arrives in town is three men standing on a rooftop. Their silhouettes blot out the sun.
The Joseph brothers become Marley’s whole world before she can blink. Soon, she is young wife to one, The One Who Got Away to another, and adopted mother to them all. As their own mother fades away and their roofing business crumbles under the weight of their unwieldy father’s inflated ego, Marley steps in to shepherd these unruly men. Years later, an eerie discovery in the church attic causes old wounds to resurface and suddenly the family’s survival hangs in the balance. With Marley as their light, the Joseph brothers must decide whether they can save the family they’ve always known―or whether together they can build something stronger in its place.
So, now for my two cents. This book started off great. I thought it was really going to pull me in. But, then it stared going downhill for me for two reasons. One (and this always irks me in any book), it seemed the author wanted to cram as many problems into the story for everyone as she possibly could. This always makes a story seem unrealistic to me. I understand people go through things, believe me, I've been there myself, but some things seemed like the author felt, "Well, I better throw THIS in, too."
The second thing that REALLY started to bug me as I was struggling to finish was all the characters seemed to think EXTREMELY deeply ALL the time. This was particularly annoying to me when Marley was only 19 in part of the story but was portrayed to be this wise old soul and psychoanalyzing everyone at every turn. I don't know. I guess there are definitely mature 19 year old kids, and I know we all dig deep sometimes but ALL the characters seemed to be doing it constantly, so no wonder they all seemed exhausted.
Marley was awfully assuming too, like she just had to be/wanted to be some kind of "savior" for this family when nobody asked her to. Also, she really overstepped with Shay, especially in the scenario when she had to go to the school for him. I totally get taking up for someone and helping out but screaming about how he was "her boy" and all was just over the top. Honestly, now that I think about it, I really can't think of anyone that was likable in this story, except maybe Ruth, who had sense and got out of town to live a peaceful life.
Definitely a family drama, but way too dramatically written for me. As always, you may love it and I hope you do. Publishes tomorrow. Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher. I always appreciate the advance copies. Happy New Year, everyone. Here's to some great reading this year!
Thursday, December 14, 2023
This Disaster Loves You by Richard Roper
In This Disaster Loves You, we meet Brian and Lilly. It's a nice typical love story, except that Brian never feels as though he deserves Lily and battles not only that insecurity, but also the disapproval of her father. However, love reigns and they marry. What follows are the ups and downs in marriage, but then one horribly sad thing occurs and neither one are equipped mentally to lean on each other for support, resulting in hidden resentment and grief that is shouldered alone.
We know in the beginning that Lily is gone but we don't know why or where she has gone. The reader is left wanting to turn pages to find out what has happened to her but also for me, to cheer Brian on in both learning where she has gone and maybe also in moving on, if need be.
For me, Lily wasn't good enough for Brian. She never seemed capable of showing him a fraction of the love he had for her all through the story. This isn't to say I didn't enjoy the story, I absolutely did. I was totally vested in finding out what happened and the author did not disappoint. I am so glad I got a chance to read this ahead of it's release in February 2024. Thank you to NetGalley for this opportunity.
Thursday, November 2, 2023
A Walk with Jesus Down Hope Road by Michael Murray
I loved this book. Not only did it have valuable teachings
Thursday, August 17, 2023
Magdalena by Candi Sary
I was fortunate enough to get a copy of Magdalena by Candi Sary. I don't know what made me want to read this, but I am glad I did. First, a synopsis:
A haunting and lyrical novel that subverts expectations, Candi Sary’s MAGDALENA (Regal House Publishing; July 11, 2023) pulls the reader into the small and secluded Sam’s Town, a place shrouded in fog and thriving on gossip and superstition. Dottie offers plenty of both when the scandal breaks about a missing girl, a ghost, and the affair that started it all. She recounts her story from within her small room in the nursing home, “a holding cell for the dying,” though Dottie isn’t dying. The town simply has nowhere else to put her.
Dottie begins to write her story. On paper, napkins, bedsheets, whatever they will give her, she feverishly recounts her reclusive existence in Sam’s Town, her tragic history of miscarriages, her longing for the baby that never was, the mysterious disappearance of an almost lover, and the day that the 15-year-old neighbor girl, Magdalena, showed up at her door. Over time, Dottie develops a strange motherly interest in the girl. “I admit I’ve done some terrible things, but I swear on my life,” Dottie writes, “I swear to all my accusers, I did nothing to harm Magdalena.”
And, now, before my two cents, read on for an excerpt:
Magdalena once told me she knew how to cure sadness. She read on that little phone of hers
that we all need fifteen minutes of sun every day and without it, depression could set in.
Those of us here on the peninsula barely get fifteen minutes a week. The fog comes in over
the cliffs in the morning, creeping through town, shrouding all neighborhoods with a thick
graveyard effect. We don’t have an actual graveyard, but the landslide all those years
ago took enough lives and left enough ghosts behind to bring on that kind of fog.
If it does lift around midmorning, a heavy cloud cover still stays most of the day,
keeping things gray. I’d always thought my sadness came from the unfortunate
things that happened in my life, but according to Magdalena, my gloom
might simply be a lack of vitamin D.
From the day she got the phone, she stared into it constantly, seeking answers
to all of her questions and even finding new questions she would have never
thought of on her own. She fed on its information like meat.
“Mushrooms,” Magdalena said. “We need to eat mushrooms.” The girl was my
only visitor. When she spoke, I hung onto her every word. “If we eat enough
of them, we’ll get the vitamin D we’re missing from the sun.”
I didn’t question her. For weeks, I based all my meals around mushrooms.
I made mushroom casseroles, salads, risotto, soups, but I’m not sure it
changed me. I’m not sure it changed her. How many mushrooms would
it take to replace the sun? I wish I could ask the girl, but she’s gone.
Three weeks ago, I lost her for good.
I pull up my sleeves and roll up my pants. My arms and legs are so pale
in this light. They look like white maps with long blue roads leading to nowhere.
The lighting in my house is soft enough to disguise my pallor, but here
in the rest home, the deficiency is glaring. I quickly lower my sleeves
and pants again.
“Focus, Dottie.” My command is quiet.
I swallow down one of the tiny white pills and sit up straight in my chair.
Pen in hand, I look around the dismal room I currently share with Mario.
It is a holding cell for the dying. We aren’t dying like the old people in this
nursing home. But our town is small. They had nowhere else to put my
husband after the accident a decade ago. And they had nowhere else to put
me after the devastating incident at my house last week. So now we live together
again in room eleven with the beige walls, the brown and yellow floral comforters
on our beds, and the slim, dark wood secretary desk beside the bathroom door.
The old desk is where I currently sit as I tap my pen on the blank page, trying
to gather my thoughts.
Now the cold distracts me. I pull a blanket from the bed and wrap it around
me. The air conditioner is dreadfully high. They say it’s to keep germs down,
but I sometimes wonder if they’re trying to weed out the weakest of us.
“Focus, Dottie, focus,” I say a little louder, closing my eyes.
“What do you need to focus on?” someone asks.
Startled, I tighten the blanket around me and turn toward the voice.
There is a white-haired lady in a wheelchair at my door. Her face is all wrinkled
up like fingertips after a long bath, and her lips seem to be growing inward
around her teeth. Thick bifocals, wrapped around her head like goggles,
magnify her wet and cloudy eyes. There are some really old people here,
but she has to be the oldest.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she says, her ancient voice slowly rattling
out the words. “I heard you from the hall.”
I wasn’t trying to be heard. I place my hand over my mouth to show her
I’ve no interest in a conversation. I’m hoping my hand gesture will make
her leave, but it doesn’t. Instead, she wheels through the small space between
the two beds and parks next to me at the desk. Her nightgown is purple
and far too big on her. She smells like leftover broccoli.
“I’m curious. What do you need to focus on?” she asks again.
It’s going to take some time getting used to this place. I’m not in the habit
of answering to anyone, having lived alone for so long. “A letter,” I finally say.
She’s so close now, there’s no escaping her. “I’m writing a letter. A story really.
The rumors are terrible and—” I catch myself before it all comes flooding back.
Their ugly words. All the lies. “I need to tell my story. It’s the only way to get the truth out.”
Her face lights up. “You must be Dottie,” she whispers. I nod. “I should have known.”
Her eyes travel the length of me. “I heard about you, the young woman living in
the old people’s home.” It sounds strange out loud but worse things have been said
about me. “How old are you, dear?”
“Forty-three.”
“So young.” She shakes her head. “It’s just awful what happened to you.
How long will you be staying with us?”
“Well.” I look over at Mario in his bed. His eyes are open, but there’s no telling
what he’s thinking as he stares at the ceiling tiles. “The Sisters say I can stay
with my husband as long as I need. I’ve nowhere else to go.” She leans over
the side of her chair to get a closer look at him.
“Does he even remember who you are?” “I haven’t let a day go by without coming
to see him.” “But with what happened to him, do you think he can remember?”
“Oh, he remembers me.” I won’t let anyone convince me otherwise.
“That’s nice.” Her smile is kind. “Sometimes I think I remember too much,” she says.
“Some things I wish I could forget, but the pictures are there in my mind, clear as day.”
She sets her bony hands in her lap, and the veins bulge like soft worms. She smiles.
Her demeanor is pleasant; it’s just the broccoli smell that’s bothersome.
I notice a pin on her nightgown. It’s gold with blue letters spelling out centenarian.
I point to it. “You’re a hundred?”
“A hundred and two.”
“That’s incredible,” I say, feeling a new respect for her.
She’s not just an old lady—she’s National Geographic material.
“It’s a curse, old age. The lucky ones die young. Freed from these bodies,
they can move on. Or, of course, they can stick around.”
She raises the few hairs left of her eyebrows, as if I know something about this.
I feel her words in my stomach. I don’t respond. She whispers,
“The ghosts of Sam’s Town are persistent, aren’t they, Dottie?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my letter.”
“But we haven’t talked about what happened to the girl yet.”
She laces her fingers together under her chin.
“We need to talk about what really happened to Magdalena.”
Hearing her name almost makes me lose my breath.
I close my eyes and indiscriminate memories resurface—her blue nail polish,
those stolen sunglasses on her head, lemon juice dripping from her fingers,
her blood on the linoleum.
“Do you know what happened?” the old woman asks.
“I mean what really happened to her?” She’s staring at me, waiting for an answer
. I reach for my pen, gripping it like a weapon.
“Until I write it all down, I’m not talking about it to anyone.”
“You can trust me, Dottie.” She wheels closer.
“I don’t even know you,” I say.
She smiles. It’s a sad smile. “Then let’s get to know one another.”
She glances toward my husband before leaning forward.
The smell is strong, her voice is soft. “Is it true that the man,” she asks,
“who started it all was your lover?”
I close my eyes again, to escape her question,
but now there he is behind my eyelids—Benjamin.
His hand creeps under my dress and he’s massaging my leg. I squeeze my eyes tighter.
“Go away!” I shout. “Go away!” I am talking to Benjamin, but when I open my eyes,
the old lady in the wheelchair is hunched over, wheeling away
as fast as her bony arms will take her. I should explain
that I was not yelling at her. But I don’t. I stay quiet.
While I feel a bit guilty, I’m relieved to see her go. The poor woman looks so frail
heading for the door, like her arms might snap. That’s the other effect
of vitamin D deficiency—frail bones. This town is killing all of us.
Excerpted from Magdalena by Candi Sary © 2023 by Candi Sary, used with permission from Regal House Publishing.
Now, for my two cents. I really enjoyed this story. It was really different from what I usually read. I found myself invested in Dottie and the other characters quickly and wanted to see where it was going. You do have to suspend belief if you don't already believe in the spirit world and the afterlife, but if you are good with that, there won't be any issue.
I found the writing to be easy, flowing and just enough description. I saw another reviewer saying that she felt Dottie annoying because of decisions she was making. However, I think when people are in bad situations or suffer from depression or loneliness, there's no telling what people may do. The reviewer also said that Dottie should have just sought help for these ailments, but sometimes the person doesn't even know they are suffering from it, they just want relief. I say all that to say I really didn't feel that Dottie needed slammed like that. Maybe you will, maybe you won't. I did find her a little delusional regarding Magdalena at first, but then Dottie admits she knows what she is doing is not healthy.
Anyway, the characters and story kept me very interested. The only thing is I wish I would have read this on a chilly October/late November rainy day. am glad I got to read this story and I think you will like it, too. Let me know if you read it and what you think. Thank you so much to the publisher for this opportunity!
Saturday, August 12, 2023
In a Quiet Town by Amber Garza
Today's blog features In A Quiet Town by Amber Garza. Let's get right into in with a synopsis provided by the publisher:
ABOUT THE BOOK:
In this chilling new novel, a pastor’s wife discovers that her estranged daughter is missing, but no one will believe her, until she meets a man claiming to be her daughter’s fiancé.
The book is about Tatum, a woman who secretly reconnects with her estranged adult daughter—secretly because Adrienne’s been all but disowned by Tatum’s husband, a pastor at the church in their small California town, where every move is watched and reported by his congregation. When Adrienne doesn’t show up for her shift at the bar where Tatum’s been visiting her, she knows something is wrong. Adrienne may have been a bit of wild child, but she hasn’t missed a day of work without calling in for years.
Tatum tries desperately to get the police or her husband to take her daughter’s disappearance seriously, until a mysterious man shows up claiming to be Adrienne’s fiancé. It’s a relief to finally have someone who believes her and is trying as hard as she is to find out where Adrienne is. But can she trust that this stranger is really who he says he is? And can she find her daughter before it’s too late?
**************************************************************************************
Read on for an excerpt from the book!
PROLOGUE (Language Warning)
His hands were in her hair, fingers threaded through the silky strands. I knew what it felt like.
My fingers had been buried in her hair many times, including last night. When their lips met,
I sat up straighter, leaning forward. It didn't feel real. I worked my jaw. It popped and clicked.
My own mouth buzzed with the memory of how her lips felt on mine.
The kiss was long. Too long.
She liked it.
My shoulder muscles pulled tight, a rubber band being stretched beyond its limits.
I thought they might snap.
The two of them drew back. She smiled. Smiled with the same lips that had smiled at me.
Kissed me.
Told me they loved me. Clearly, a lie.
She brushed back her hair, and the diamond on her finger sparkled.
Her ring. The one I’d given her. She was wearing it.
It felt like a punch to the gut. Like a big “fuck you” to me.
It wasn’t like she knew I’d followed her. But still… Shouldn’t she take her engagement ring
off before she hooked up with another dude?
Throwing her head back, her neck exposed, she giggled.
Imagining my hands wrapping around that tender flesh, I squeezed the steering wheel.
It gave under the pressure, and I squeezed harder. It felt good. Therapeutic.
I pictured her terrified.
Pleading. Mouth tight, eyes bulging. I squeezed and squeezed, my teeth grinding, the vein in
my forehead throbbing. My muscles ached by the time I released my grip.
Their hands clasped. My breathing was labored as I watched them walk off together,
around the side of the building, out of sight.
I’d loved her. Given her so much.
How dare she?
No one made a fool out of me.
She wouldn’t get away with this. Not by a long shot.
Excerpted from In A Quiet Town by Amber Garza, Copyright © 2023 by Amber Garza. Published by MIRA Books.
BUY LINKS:
Bookshop.org: https://bookshop.org/p/books/then-she-disappeared-amber-garza/18816653?ean=9780778334255
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-a-quiet-town-amber-garza/1142722524?ean=9780778334255
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Quiet-Town-Novel-Amber-Garza/dp/0778334252
SOCIAL LINKS:
Author website: https://ambergarza.com/
IG: https://www.instagram.com/ambergarzaauthor/?hl=en
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Amber Garza has had a passion for the written word since she was a child making books out of notebook paper and staples. Her hobbies include reading and singing. Coffee
and wine are her drinks of choice (not necessarily in that order). She writes while blaring music,
and talks about her characters like they're real people. She lives with her husband and
two kids in Folsom, California.