LIAR'S CREEK, Matt Goldman's Clay Hawkins mystery series book one

LIAR'S CREEK (Clay Hawkins #1)
MATT GOLDMAN
Minotaur Books (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$11.99 ebook, available now

Rating: 3.75* of five

The Publisher Says: From New York Times bestselling author and Emmy Award-winner Matt Goldman comes Liar's Creek, which asks how far we'll go to protect the people we love.

The small town of Riverwood, Minnesota is true to its name, brimming with beautiful scenes of nature. Its rural landscape is threaded with scenic trout streams, which carve their way through limestone bluffs. But beneath its picturesque facade, danger runs rampant.

Clay Hawkins isn’t a stranger to the secrets of his hometown. After twenty years away, Clay has recently returned home from abroad with his twelve-year-old son Braedon, and his relationship with his father Judd, the recently replaced sheriff, is as strained as ever.

Trouble immediately brews for Clay when his beloved uncle, Teddy, disappears. Together, the three generations of Hawkinses must overturn every stone in Riverwood and confront deep familial wounds to find the one person who brings them together. As danger looms, Clay worries that it might be too late to save Teddy—and that the rest of the family might be next.

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My Review: Author Goldman clearly invested a lot of mental energy in Clay Hawkins' life trajectory. It's all here: dead mother, grouchy prickly father, adolescent son with all that implies and entails, escapr from then return to Home after a fun, fascinating adulthood elsewhere...it's all here. Coming home has its rewards, these aren't skimped, and its risks. Uncle Teddy, who vanishes without explanation, is going to be found, by Clay, and damned if his family's ugly secrets they do NOT want splashed around will stop Clay from doing it.

Perch that determination on top of his...estranged, unliked...father making a friend of Clay's son, and the differing ways to be a father between the generations add a load of tension between them, among all three of them. The women in the story are all strong, competent people, with their own careers and concerns. They're not little ladies, nor are they ball-busting viragos, they're presented as flawed and imperfect like the stiff-necked men they choose to hang around with.

The mystery's resolved. Copious trout-fishing is done. Football/soccer is discussed. The manly men (and one about to start being a man) all do man-stuff like pointedly not talk, like ignore feelings (their own of course, but each others' too), not talk, lust after women, and not talk. It takes extreme measures to goad them into speech not about sports. When they do talk, shit gets done and in a hurry.

I'm afraid I was not surprised by the big reveal. I really seldom am, and this was not one of those times. I don't fault Author Goldman for that. I fault him a little for apparently losing track of some red-herrings that will stink up the furniture in future installments of the series. There will be future installments because no publisher works this hard to drop a promising premise. I hope the team will make some serious effort to answer young Braedon's quite reasonable questions about his past that he's too young to remember on his own.

A promising debut series that needs a bit of finesse applied as it matures.

FIDELTY, a Belt Revivals series story by forgotten feminist Susan Glaspell

FIDELTY
SUSAN GLASPELL (intro. Sarah Blackwood)
Belt Publishing (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$11.99 ebook, available now

Rating: 4.5* of five

The Publisher Says: A classic feminist novel originally published in 1915, and set in Iowa in the early years of the 20th century, Susan Glaspell's Fidelity is a surprising, suspenseful work about the strictures that confine women, the risks those who want to flee them take, and the opportunities that await them if they do.

Ruth Holland, bored in her conventional small town, falls in love with a married man and runs off with him, shocking the community. A decade later she returns to cold shoulders and the disapproval of the town: she is seen as "a human being who selfishly—basely—took her own happiness, leaving misery for others. She outraged society as completely as a woman could outrage it ... One who defies it ... must be shut out from it."

What Ruth decides to do next will upend most readers' expectations, as will the cryptic scenes that take place in the doctor's office after Ruth becomes involved with her married lover. Ruth Holland deserves to be placed alongside other heroines such as Emma Bovary and Lily Bart, women who wanted "an enlarged experience" and were "zestful for new things from life." Fidelity will shock and fascinate readers today as its heroine did in her day.

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My Review: It will most certainly shock readers today, will this read; not for the same reasons and not to the same degree as the readers of 1915 were shocked. Nowadays we're watching, or y'all're watching because I sure as shootin' ain't, The Real Housewives of {Flyover Country} to get the equivalent shock value. (I sometimes long for the Hays Code when I read about the antics of these surgically altered weirdos that keep so many so entertained.) I too was shocked by Fidelity: How has Susan Glaspell disappeared from the awareness of 2026's readers?

Born on a rural Iowa homestead (this means something important, y'all follow the link) in 1876, by 1894 she was a paid journalist; she later became a college graduate (in philosophy!) at a time when the number of *men* who graduated college was a vanishingly small slice of the population; she was a staffer, full time and paid, at the Des Moines newspaper; then gave it all up...to become a bestselling novelist and short-story writer.

AFTER that, she fell in love with a married guy. He divorced whoever he was married to in order to put a ring on Susan's finger (and who can blame him?), and their union produced...more bestselling novels, as well as the Provincetown Players, Eugene O'Neill's career, several still-produced plays of her own...y'know, all the usual things a woman can expect to have happen to her when she's born into a nineteenth-century farming family. Her life as a radical socialist free-love advocate would shock and startle many in the US today, let alone then.

So Fidelity is probably more faction, or even a roman à clef if one knew the good folk of Davenport, Iowa, circa 1910 which I do not and, if this story is any guide, am delighted not to have done. I'm no small-town fancier in general, but the beady-eyed, small-minded and judgmental folk of the place evoked in this story made me panther-screechingly furious on the regular.

Equally irksome to my twenty-first century self is the lackluster critical reception of the time, doubtless symptomatic of the era's cultural unreadiness to examine its prudishness and misogyny. (I'm appalled to not these same objectively wrongheaded notions are being trumpeted as in the ascendant again. Well-timed, Belt Publishing!) I suspect some of the resistance then also stemmed from the multiple narrators whose ideas about "fidelity," that inherently coercive concept applied far more to women than men in marriage as we constitute it in the West, being rather transparently intended to counterpoint each other and reinforce the validity of protagonist Ruth's choice to elope with a married man.

Pace University Professor Sarah Blackwood's introduction alone might repay the cost of procuring the book. So much of Author Glaspell's life is footnoted in relation to the Provincetown Players' enduring legacy, despite her 1932 Pulitzer Prize for Drama meriting more than a simple "oh, by the way" footnote. Professor Blackwood makes a good case for why we should look for, and at, Susan Glaspell as a visionary life-liver and writer.

I don't really think this story of "infidelity" and sexual liberation despite its consequences will ever go out of relevance and ability to illuminate and elucidate how willful and calricious a thing the human heart is. It's more out of fashion in twenty-first century storytelling when its focus is not on the guilt and the transgression angles of attack. It might feel less minatory because there's no emphasis on punishment for the behavior, but to my mind this story is more honest about reality than modern salacious takes on the topic. There are consequences to the choices we make. They aren't always easy to endure. If you knowingly transgress your community's norms be ready to find a new community.

I think a lot of people, married or not, can relate to, resonate with, find fellowship in, that message.

MARY KELIIKOA'S PAGE: The Misty Pines Mysteries series

KILLER TRACKS (A Misty Pines Mystery #3)
MARY KELIIKOA
Level Best Books (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$5.99 ebook, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: A peaceful retreat. A maze of smoke and murder. Is their remote getaway about to become a death trap?

Sheriff Jax Turner is worried about going off-grid and leaving his young team of deputies behind. But while his getaway with his ex is meant to help them reconnect, Jax is distracted by signs of a break-in at their rented lookout.

After a string of unsettling events and an approaching wildfire turn their isolated retreat into a danger zone, he’s stunned to find a dead body with marks tying it to a killer he put away a decade ago.

Terrified his attempt at reconciliation has led them both into a fatal setup, Jax rushes back to his estranged wife before she joins the list of victims. But his dedication to serving and protecting could become an Achilles heel as other players join them among the darkening trees.

Can he fight his way out of the woods before the flames of revenge consume everything?

Killer Tracks is the tense third book in the Misty Pines Mystery Series. If you like tangled relationships, edge-of-your-seat suspense, and small town sheriff procedurals, then you’ll love Mary Keliikoa’s page-turning game of cat-and-mouse.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: Tangled emotions, a History that beats any failure of your own relationships, and a stressful job as The Crime-Solver in a town as magnetic to crime as Midsomer or St Mary Mead...I am in my happy place. The stakes are very high, the people are familiar enough to be my real life neighbors, and the setting makes me pine away for a small-town life that, if I had it, would make me feel desperate and trapped.

Jax and Abby are still trying to fix what got broken by the awfulness of their shared world...he's an ex-Portland cop (bet they want him back now) and her FBI world...because they just can't quit each other. So while they're off in the patch-up place aka back of beyond, Rachel the deputy is trying her goddamnedest to solve an arson covering up a murder...when in flies her dad, delivering a crucial cold-case clue like a gangrenous carrier pigeon. (Me no likee daddums; he was also Jax's Portland force partner...my hackles will not stay down when he's around.)

Into Abby and Jax's doomed privacy wafts Hannah...wait, who? Exactly! Who's she, where'd she come from, and when's she leaving?

So a series'-worth of Jax pining unrequitedly after Abby, a murder case Rachel really wants to solve without some old man buttin' in (be it her old man or Jax's predecessor as chief), and a serial-killer cold case. Have I forgotten anything?

You'll want to read for yourselves, so I ain't tellin'.

*eville cackle*

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DEADLY TIDES (A Misty Pines Mystery #2)
MARY KELIIKOA
Level Best Books (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$16.95 paperback, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: A missing surf legend. Waterlogged clues. Can he trust his gut instincts to end the wave of murder?

Sheriff Jax Turner is learning to live again. Holding tight to the hope of reconciling with his FBI agent ex-wife, the wary man is determined to keep his focus on his coastal Oregon community. And after a concerned brother requests a welfare check, Jax is troubled to find the absent surf shop owner's tracks lead to a pool of blood.

Now investigating a potential homicide, Turner chases a tip from his former spouse about a severed foot found on the beach. But when a torrent of leads links the victim to a politician's son, a jealous competitor, and a get-straight program for youth, the steadfast lawman fears layers of lies and secret agendas will keep him from stopping a vicious killer.

Can he unravel the fatal agenda before he's the next corpse to wash ashore?

If you like flawed heroes, gritty crimes, and dark twists and turns, then you'll love Deadly Tides, the chilling second book in Mary Keliikoa's Misty Pines Mystery Series.

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My Review: Local surfer dies mysteriously; unconnected human foot washes up on local beach, handled by Jax's much pined-after ex-wife the FBI agent, who knows he can handle it so hands responsibility over; lying liars lie and abuse people...okay, it's Misty Pines. Good to be back.

Abby, the ex-wife and FBI agent, gets a third person PoV like Jax because we need to know things he couldn't and she feels reluctant to tell his simping-for-her self. It helped me keep details clear in my head. I can't help but wonder why her FBI partner Olek is so present...but I like Jax getting the eager young Rachel onto his deputeam. He's settling in to the job of being The Crime Solver for Misty Pines. He's not as unsure of himself. It begins to feel more like a set team is forming.

I confess I do not see Abby's side of their divorce. It doesn't matter much because, unless decades of series-mystery reading and recognizing the need for ma'at to be restored, they *will* get back together. In their profession of law enforcement, each is the other's ideal mate. This time apart will, I predict, pay dividends.

You will pay an attention tax. This book does not hold to a spanking pace as it privileges introspection and the unending process of grieving. Rather we're shown the emotional gyrations in Jax and, to a lesser extent, Abby, as they circle each other simply by virtue of sharing the most important trait of them all: Values.

I think this book would be so fraught as to be meaningless if one had not read book one, Hidden Pieces (q.v.). The cast, the pace, the fuller backstory, all help defray the attention cost of the story's inward focus. Not to be skipped, but don't start here.

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HIDDEN PIECES (A Misty Pines Mystery #1)
MARY KELIIKOA
Level Best Books (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
99¢ ebook, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Sheriff Jax Turner is staring down the barrel of his broken past. On the brink of ending it all, he feels like a failure following his daughter's tragic passing and his subsequent divorce. But when a schoolgirl vanishes and her backpack is found in a sex offender's backseat, the weary lawman drags himself into action and vows to nail one last sociopath.

Shocked to discover the teen's aunt had lost her life in an abduction years prior, the devastating outcome that he's taken personally, Jax believes the killer has returned with a vengeance. But as the desperate cop frantically hunts down a mysterious relative in search of a suspect, the girl's time keeps ticking away...

Can the jaded sheriff take down the culprit in time to bring the young girl home alive?

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: We meet Jax in extremis...the very worst thing possible to happen to a person has happened, the depressingly most-common fallout of that hideous disaster has occurred and he is (he thinks) ready for The End.

He is not.

He is summoned back to participation in life by the disappearance of Allison, a teenaged missing person with frantic parents. Jax can gird himself to be involved, as he badly wants to give someone else the ending he did not get. All set in the scenic, peacfully beautiful coastal-Oregon town of Misty Pines. As a small town, it is of course a place of unspoken stuff Everybody Knows (or think they know) but which Jax, formerly a Portland detective, isn't privy to. And doesn't know he doesn't know.

All of this feeds the man's deep, well-entrenched anxiety about his skills, about his past coming home to roost, about his misery being without his FBI agent ex-wife who abandoned him...After. It's real, it happens, people are not their best selves when crushed by terrible grief. It does occupy a good deal of his mental energy, though not simply as plot dressing. Trust Author Keliikoa. She has a plan.

Why I wasn't offering nosegays and wreaths of stars comes down to the ending. It is something you'll resonate with or you won't. I felt it introduced more complexity than was necessary, even for a series mystery. But...and this is crucial to know...it was not simply pulled outta nowhere and tacked on. As a first in series read, I'll pin my reservations to my mind's corkboard and see if my issues are used to good advantage in a later book.

Definitely a series I recommend you pursue with me!

DEATH OF AN EX, Vandy Myrick series of Black woman PI mysteries

DEATH OF AN EX
DELIA PITTS (Vandy Myrick #2)
Minotaur Books (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$28.00 hardcover, preorder for delivery 15 July 2025

Rating: 4.25* of five

The Publisher Says: Delia Pitts expertly writes about family, race, class, and grief in her mysteries. Vandy Myrick captured readers' and critics' hearts in Trouble in Queenstown. She returns in Death of an Ex, where Vandy tries to piece together what brought her ex-husband's life to an end.

Queenstown, New Jersey, feels big when you need help and tiny when you want privacy. For Vandy Myrick, that’s both a blessing and a curse. Now that Vandy’s back in “Q-Town”, her services as her hometown’s only Black woman private investigator have earned her more celebrity—or notoriety—than she figured.

Keeping busy with work helps Vandy deal with the grief of losing her daughter, stitching the seams, cementing the gaps. The memories will always remain, and they come crashing back to the surface when her ex-husband, Phil Bolden, walks back into her life. Promising everything, returning home, restoring family. Until she answers her door to the news that Phil has been murdered. And Vandy decides Phil is now her client.

It’s hard to separate the Phil that Vandy knew with the one Queenstown did. She sees him—and their daughter—in Phil’s son, who attends a prestigious local high school. She sees the layers of a complicated marriage with his wife. She sees all of Phil’s various parent, husband, businessman, philanthropist. But which role got him killed?

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My Review: Phil was not a nice man. Phil, dead, is now out in front of the world as a not-nice man. Vandy harbors the sentimental fondness for the man she had her only child with, and she also harbors the very very recent memory of the fabulous ex sex they had hours before his murder.

Vandy's new enough in her return to Queenstown (see link above for the first book's review) that the cops, although they must interview her, do so without the usual presumption of guilt such a connection to a fresh murder would bring. Suspicion of her, probing her possible motive, but not a full-on attack on Vandy the person. Since we see the entire proceedings from inside Vandy's head, that felt startling to me. I'd expect to feel very defensive if I was being asked these questions! But Vandy, ex-cop, present-day PI as well as person of interest, sees from a perspective I won't have. And that is why I so enjoy these stories.

Vandy, thinking with her gonads, retains a fondness for the man she impulsively, and disastrously, married long ago. He was and is a skilled lover which clouds her cop-judgment. It doesn't hurt that he fathered her now-dead daughter, and that he's intelligent, articulate, and knows how to say the right thing.

This is the profile of a successful con man, as well...and Vandy's trawling through Phil's life after he left her life lets her know how close to a much bigger disaster than she was in she came. A single mother has hurdles...the wife of a con man has mountains to climb, much like Phil's current wife does. Did she take Justice into her own hands? A slick front with a slippery, dishonest man behind it could make any honest woman mad enough to do the unthinkable...or is she all that honest...? What Phil knew, how he knew it, all the secrets and skulduggery, could be known to her....

Every turn of Vandy's investigation is like that. She has access to the Black community the white police guys don't, and she isn't under the same time pressure to clear the case off the books. Not to mention the fact that the great and the good of Queenstown do not want the dirt Phil knew or the way it connects to them to be revealed. Even if it means some innocent outsider takes the fall for what she did not do.

It's a solidly constructed mystery with fair-play clues and a seriously sharp social conscience. Vandy confronts the prejudices within the racist US system, proving humans will do anything to be able to look down on their fellow humans. Vandy chooses the guilt/innocence dichotomy as her perch. And repeatedly gets knocked off it...proving that Delia C. Potts is a worthy successor to Barbara Neely in the social-realist PI/amateur sleuth genre. If there's a better mystery out in 2025, I haven't found it yet.

So where'd that fifth star go? There are stylistic details I found diminishing my pleasure in the read, like repetitions of revelations and what amount to "when last we met..." chapter summaries. I can, in context, see how these made sense to Author Pitts; I do not like them.

Not enough to skip the next book, though. Soon, please.

ALL THE PERFECT DAYS, sweet summertime story to get immersed in

ALL THE PERFECT DAYS
MICHAEL THOMPSON
Sourcebooks Landmark (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$9.99 ebook, availble now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Family GP Charlie Knight fears life is passing him by. He’s in his late thirties, and treading water as a family doctor in the same small town he grew up in.

Just as he’s planning his escape, something changes. He develops a gift, an extraordinary insight for any doctor: a sense of exactly how many days his patients have left to live.

But in a country town like Marwick, his patients are his friends. His own family. The people he grew up with, and the girl he still loves.

And Charlie discovers this gift may not be a gift at all.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: NOT A ROM-COM. Do not look at the cover illustration and think it's going to be a sweet little romp as the MC gets a second chance at Luuuv. (That is part of what happens, but honestly not as much as the visuals suggest.) Oh, and to be honest, calling a thirtyish woman "the girl he still loves" is not a great choice, copywriting department.

What kept me reading this story was Charlie's mildly perplexed attitude towards his newfound ability to "see" how long a person has left to live. What a Burnsian gift:

Oh, would some Power the gift give us
To see ourselves as others see us!
It would from many a blunder free us,
And foolish notion:
What airs in dress and gait would leave us,
And even devotion!...from To a Louse

...for a doctor to discover! It could at first glance seem like a gift...but quite soon it would naturally become a burden.

Bearing that burden is a man we don't really get to know, but more know about. We have no access to his...or anyone else's...thoughts, we're in a third-person close narrative style so we are more or less the camera in the movie of Charlie's life. I went back and forth on this choice, does it work does it help me "get" the story...it does and it doesn't. It's a choice that makes the story outside us, and them; it's a story that is about a place we do not feel we belong to while really caring about the guy showing us around.

No one else gets much attention, really. Ideas are introduced but not explored any more than the not-Charlie characters are. I'm not all the way in sympathy with that choice because of the nature of Charlie's "gift." A bit more about the people whose lives he senses pretty clearly the ends of might've increased my investment in them and the story.

I did get invested, however, as I resonate with Charlie's newfound ability to see what is not obvious. I quite liked his slightly befuddled response to it. I liked Charlie, and I was glad to sped time with him. As it is told, it felt to me like something from the midcentury of US or UK middlebrow fiction.

That is an honest compliment, as those kinds of stories are able to convey the essential goodness in most people. Everyone in this story, no matter how incomplete their characters felt to me, was an essentially well-meaning person (if sometimes slightly lost).

It's a welcome, and welcoming, place to be.

HEART, BE AT PEACE gave me agita

HEART, BE AT PEACE
DONAL RYAN
Viking Press (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$14.99 ebook, available now

Rating: 3.75* of five

The Publisher Says: From one of the most acclaimed Irish writers today, a new novel about smalltown Ireland that explores a community on the mend and the power of love and trauma to both bring people together and divide them

“I said it before. Madness comes circling around. Ten-year cycles, as true as the sun will rise…”

In a small town in rural Ireland, the local people have weathered the storm of economic collapse and now look to the the jobs are back, the dramas of the past seemingly lulled, and although the town bears the scars of its history, new stories have begun to unfold.

But a new, insidious menace creeps through back-alley shadows and into the lives of this community. Old grudges fester and new ones arise. Young people are lured by the promise of fast money while the generation above them tries to hold back the tide of an enemy beyond their control. And the peace of this small town is about to be shattered in an unimaginable way.

A stunning, lyrical novel told in twenty-one voices, Heart, be at Peace reveals a community that together looks to weather the storm of betrayals, secrets, and grudges that can divide families, towns, and entire generations.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: I got a copy of Steerforth Press's hardover of Author Ryan's debut, The Spinning Heart, years ago. I was not a fan. It felt to me like a lightened up, shallowed out, misery porn oratorio. This novel-in-stories (though Viking would not like that description, stories being anathema on the US market) is the thematic and setting follow-on to the first book. It isn't really a sequel because it makes perfect sense, nuance and all, to someone who has never read the first book.

It is, I'm unsurprised to say, written in the same style as the first book, and that is not greatly to my taste. It's not incompetent, or poor, or clumsy. It just...is. For barely over two hundred pages, it's fine, unexciting but fine. Any longer, though, and I'd be mental for need of some kind of verve, some hint of passion for or prejudice against. Like this: “That was always the way in Ireland, he said. You’d be hung for robbing an apple and made king if you robbed a castle.” Or this: “That’s what young ones do once the madness starts coursing through them. It’s a dangerous place in a person’s life, that shadowy path between childhood and adulthood, and it’s pocked and hexed with all sorts of traps and trials.” Or this: “Pokey had a friend from Malta or one of those quare places who was living down near the lake, just back from the foreshore, in one of those big low houses that was built on a foundation of bribes and bullshit back in the eighties.”

No one's ever said, thought, or written that before, have they.

So I found the execution wanting, and was not excited by the extremely short chapters that change viewpoints and function as slighly underdeveloped stories. If you're telling stories making them wgolly their own thing is best...but these are interdependent fragments of a narrative, I think, so neither fish nor fowl. If this was a deliberate choice, an intentional development of storytelling, it did not hit the mark for me. Too much slid past the PoV switches for me to feel fully satisfied.

Others will disagree, and will thoroughly relish all my cavils as features. I'm not warning anyone away from a poor product; your own tastes be your guide, and Kindle up a sample to see what you think of the writing.

For me, this is my last foray into this bit of Irish literature.

NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO PANIC, follow-up to his fame-setting novel...worthy successor?

NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO PANIC
KEVIN WILSON
Ecco Press
$27.99 hardcover, available now

One of Time Magazine's 100 Must-Read Books of 2022

Rating: 4.75* of five

The Publisher Says: From the New York Times bestselling author of Nothing to See Here comes an exuberant, bighearted novel about two teenage misfits who spectacularly collide one fateful summer, and the art they make that changes their lives forever.

Sixteen-year-old Frankie Budge—aspiring writer, indifferent student, offbeat loner—is determined to make it through yet another sad summer in Coalfield, Tennessee, when she meets Zeke, a talented artist who has just moved into his grandmother’s unhappy house and who is as lonely and awkward as Frankie is. Romantic and creative sparks begin to fly, and when the two jointly make an unsigned poster, shot through with an enigmatic phrase, it becomes unforgettable to anyone who sees it. The edge is a shantytown filled with gold seekers. We are fugitives, and the law is skinny with hunger for us.

The posters begin appearing everywhere, and people wonder who is behind them. Satanists, kidnappers—the rumors won’t stop, and soon the mystery has dangerous repercussions that spread far beyond the town. The art that brought Frankie and Zeke together now threatens to tear them apart.

Twenty years later, Frances Eleanor Budge—famous author, mom to a wonderful daughter, wife to a loving husband—gets a call that threatens to upend everything: a journalist named Mazzy Brower is writing a story about the Coalfield Panic of 1996. Might Frances know something about that? And will what she knows destroy the life she’s so carefully built?

A bold coming-of-age story, written with Kevin Wilson’s trademark wit and blazing prose, Now Is Not The Time to Panic is a nuanced exploration of young love, identity, and the power of art. It’s also about the secrets that haunt us—and, ultimately, what the truth will set free.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA EDELWEISS+. THANK YOU.

My Review: Nothing to See Here was a solid 3.5-star read for me. It was entertaining and I got a few moments of real emotional involvement. I didn't think I'd go looking for more of Author Wilson's work but the Universe had other ideas...Ecco offered me the DRC and, being game as well as greedy, I hopped on it like a hen on a junebug.

Frankie Budge is a teenaged girl with a serious boredom problem. She's a Coalfield, Tennessee, girl who's smart enough to be a novelist in training and bored enough to do anything to stave off the screaming meemees. She's got triplet brothers whose lives will clearly end in tears, prison sentences, and severe emotional damage. Her father's left his family for another woman, and her mother...cruises...she lets Frankie be her own weird self because, well, triplet boys on the way to prison require more than a single working mother actually has to give. Yay for Frankie! Then she meets Zeke, a new kid with no friends.

Zeke's dad was a horndog, too. (Is this something Author Wilson knows about from personal experience, one must ask oneself.) Zeke apparently decompensated all over the guy in the middle of his office. Well, that's what his mom says...he can't remember any of it. Oh, and this is important: He's so freaked about the whole nightmare that he's decided to rename himself "Zeke" short for his middle name, Ezekiel. He and his mom are staying in Coalfield, where she was from. And that's how the match met the gas....

Y'all remember the 1980s Satanic Panic era? All that horror, all those lives ruined...well, in her gawky attempt to connect with this boy she likes, Frankie made the error to end all errors...she showed him a Xerox machine her brothers had stolen from the high school's shed. With toner and paper and everything...and she lets Zeke fix it, using the loveliest phrase for a paper jam I've ever heard: "like the machine had done origami"...so thus begins one of the major Satanic panics moved all the way up in time to 1996.

Their use for the photocopier is to make an art project (after Frankie uses it as an excuse to cop her first-ever kiss from a boy who's never kissed a girl either) of a poster—a drawing Zeke does after she writes “The edge is a shantytown filled with gold seekers. We are fugitives, and the law is skinny with hunger for us” on a piece of paper. Then the Xerox comes into play...she comments in her narrative about them being kids from Nowheresville and never having heard of Andy Warhol so they were inventing this new thing together...and, after making a bunch of them, Frankie puts them up all over Coalfield.

Hijinks quite horribly ensue.

The inspiration of some older teens to play off this mysterious and compelling artwork, using it for their own ends, and the horrors that any powerful thing can call forth when it's anonymous and unclaimed, break the entire town. Frankie and Zeke are kids. They're way too scared to face up to the consequences (some truly terrifying) of their innocent actions. And that is where I realized I was a lot more involved with this story than I ever was with the first book of his I read. I circled back and read "On Writing Now Is Not The Time to Panic", Author Wilson's introductory story of how this book has been moving inside him for a long time. He spoke directly from his heart, revealed his genuine grief that finally summoned this book into the world after the decades of growing, and I was utterly changed. A story I'd thought was pretty good became a moving, honest act of love for a past and a life he was no longer living. And that made my pleasure multiply many-fold.

What it means to my old-man self to see someone as young as Author Wilson contend with the doomed promise of nostalgia, to confront the power of a past one can never reach but must always reach for...well, that spoke to me. That made me feel I was heard and understood by a complete stranger who couldn't pick me out in a line-up of Boomers. I am validated by this evidence of my sad, wistful knowledge of the ghost-hand of the past clutching with steel talons in someone young enough to be my child.

Then what the hell happened to that fifth star, it's fair to ask. Welllll...I'm really not sure it's fair to say, he said, glancing at the ever-present truncheons of the Spoiler Stasi. I'm not a big fan of the way the pressure to dredge up her past with Zeke, now going by his first name again, entered Frankie's life, and the things it led her to do were understandable but frankly disturbing to me. I felt she was violating boundaries for selfish reasons. It's not like she needed to do something she did the way she did it...the knowledge could've been gained less invasively...but here we are. I've only docked a quarter-star and I'm pretty sure the sales won't suffer because one no-name blogger was squicked out at some stuff that most of y'all (who never had your boundaries utterly disregarded by a woman) won't notice.

I'm still glad I read the book, you can see. I'm especially delighted by a piece of mother-daughter healing that spoke loudly to me. And you know, that is more than enough of a gift to take the slight sting of imperfection off my eyes.

DECEMBER 2021 HOLIGAY ROMANTIC READS!

HIS HOLIDAY CRUSH
CARI Z.
Entangled: Brazen (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$3.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Workaholic attorney Max Robertson is one meeting away from making partner at a big NYC firm when his best friend calls and guilts him into coming back home for Christmas. But there’s a reason he hasn’t been back to Edgewood for a decade—too many bad memories. The plan was to go for just one night, until a wild deer and a snow bank wrecked everything.

Former Army Sergeant Dominic “Nicky” Bell is the new guy on the Edgewood police force, so of course he drew the short straw and is stuck working the night shift. But his evening gets turned upside-down when he gets called out to a wreck in the snow—and it’s his one and only high school crush, looking even sexier than he did back then.

When they both end up stranded together at Dominic’s house, sparks start to fly and Max isn’t sure what to do. But everyone deserves a present this holiday season, right?

ANOTHER ELF-GIFT! LUCKY OLD ME.

My Review: Six foul w-bombs. Six. Fie on this, this plague this dreadful and cornball and unnatural act! Real, actual ball-having testosterone-producing males do not w-i-n-k at...anyone, really, except the very, very young.

Still. The story. I am not against a good, solid iteration of an evergreen plot. Here we have one of those stories that's been Hallmarked and Lifetimed until we know it by heart, and that is why we consume them. It is comforting. It feels *right* to go all misty and dewy when reading about young men who are just figuring it all out, fighting battles that were passed down to them or were inflicted from without by force majeure. They are really, honestly like that, after all. And the young men here are good souls trapped into confining boxes by histories and expectations they didn't agree to accept.

When Dominic sees Maxfield for the first time in many a year, he is right back to his teenaged crush on his big brother's bestie. Said bestie is clueless...the decade between fourteen and twenty-four is a lot longer than almost any other...and just flirts with the hot young cop helping him out of the snowbank his BMW slid into as he's on the way back to the hometown he fled.

When the hijinks do eventually ensue, it's not a moment too soon. Like almost halfway through the book before they get down to business. Now...that's not a *bad* thing, there's the whole "best friend's little brother has plutonium in his underpants" issue, but good lawsy me! One thing I'll give the author, she didn't exactly stint once the ice was broken. (And this is one of those NO STRAIGHT PEOPLE reads.) She even deals with the issue of PDAs several times, in several different situations; that was refreshing to me. All too often it seems as though there's a simple, blanket response to the issue, it's okay or it's not. I've never known anyone with that blanket an approach to that complex issue. It's refreshing to read something where it's multi-layered.

Being out was a big deal for me. I’d never ask a guy to come out, but I wouldn’t go into the closet to be with someone. Not that I was thinking about the future. At all.

What also feels good to say is that the way the author breaks the OMG-conflict-therefore-run-away issue both men have came in such a realistic way. Just...flat-out blurting it. "I'm sorry, I fucked up, I really really want us to work on problems and there I went and did the wrong thing, and..."

Before I could say another word, Max reached out, grabbed my jacket, and pulled me into a kiss. It was a cold, awkward kiss—our noses were freezing, his lips were chapped, and my mouth must have tasted like too-sugary frosting. But damn. It was still the best kiss I’d ever had. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer, warming him as best I could, welcoming him against my body. He could stay there forever, as far as I was concerned.

I think there's nothing more real than the response of "shut up and kiss me" when someone's just given you their entire heart on a platter, yours to hurt or heal. This is a category romance. We know the choice before we get there. That's why we came on this ride! But so often the response to the resolution of the scariest thing you can do is...not very realistic. Sappy, soppy words, or a long, loving look...nope. Men are action-oriented. Feeling something? Do something about it!

So, yes, I ended up happy with the read. I'll definitely read another one from Author Cari Z. I'm sure she's got other good stuff to say, and her grasp of the actual workings of men sexing up other men is superior to many. That she made the effort to give them both serious thoughts about the what, the how, and the why of each act was a big point in the story's favor.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

CABIN FEVER
BRIGHAM VAUGHN
Two Peninsulas Press (non-affiliate Amazon link)
99¢ Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: It may be cold outside, but inside, the temperature is rising.

When grad student Kevin Taggert goes home with his best friend for Thanksgiving, the last thing he expects is to drool over the guy’s dad.

Forty-eight-year-old Drew Freeman would love a relationship, but he never expected to find it with his son’s best friend.

When a last-minute change of plans leaves Drew and Kevin alone in a cabin the week before Christmas, the heat between them is too much to deny.

Although they promise it’ll only last the week, every day that passes brings them closer together. When Christmas Day arrives—along with Drew’s son—can they salvage the relationship and the holiday?

THIS WAS A GIFT! THANK YOU, SWEET ELF.

My Review: An age-gap romance about a divorced dad falling for his son's best friend is an automatic "yes" from me. We all like seeing our lives on the page, don't we. And goodness knows the existence of romantic stories with older men as objects of desire are most agreeable to my over-60 self.

Kevin smoothed his hand over Drew’s stomach. He didn’t have a six-pack or anything but his abs were solid and firm under his hand. Perfect.

What makes this story a success is its refusal to play into either the trope of the hot-young-stud seducing the older guy or vice versa; the connection the men feel is more like what I experience with my own Young Gentleman Caller. Talking and laughing and enjoying time spent together is so much more important than sex because there's just so much more of it.

Kevin lay back in Drew’s arms with a contented sigh. Had he ever had moments like this before? With anyone? Sure, the setting didn’t hurt. A warm, cozy cabin with a crackling fire and glowing Christmas tree had a hell of a lot better ambience than the dorm rooms or shitty student apartments where he and his ex had spent most of their time.

Given the sex scenes aren't extended, and they are pretty clearly signaled therefore easy to skip, I'd give a guarded mmmaaaybe to straight people. The men are fond of each other and quite willing to kiss but if THAT bothers you what on Earth are you doing around me anyway?!

“I wouldn’t have dreamed then that I’d be marrying a man and that my parents would welcome him with open arms.” {said Drew}

“A hot younger man at that,” Kimberly {his ex-wife} teased. “Well done, you.”

Well done indeed. Satisfying read for the fluffy season.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

KISS ME AT KWANZAA
L.L. BUCKNOR
Beaten Track Publishing (non-affiliate Amazon link)
99¢ Kindle edition, available now

Rating: squeaks to a four-star rating of five by the hairs on its...nose

The Publisher Says: Coworkers and cubicle mates, Ishmael "Ish" Cutter and Adan Flores might come from different backgrounds but they have a good number of things in common. The biggest one? They each have a secret crush on the other. This holiday season they are both single for the first time in thirteen months. No boyfriends or clingy ex issues - maybe it's time for Adan to make his move? He formulates the perfect plan and invites Ish over for his family's Kwanzaa feast...but will he have the courage to make the first move or will this holiday season be one to forget?

I RECEIVED THIS AS A GIFT FROM MY FRIEND RONI! *SMOOCH*

My Review: What can you do when you're work-cubicle mate is so hot you want to mate with him every time you see him? Say yes when he invites you home for Kwanzaa, of course. He's not from your kind of family...who had no issue with you being gay, of course, but complete freakout city when you showed up with a nose piercing, and the tattoo sleeve...!

“So that means you’re free on the twenty-sixth?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Would you like to come over? Meet my family? Celebrate the first day of Kwanzaa with us?”

Ish’s stomach dropped at the question. Wasn’t it a big step to meet the family?

But Adan's family barely notices except his little sister who wants you to Notice Her and his littlest sister who, when you admitted to liking unicorns, invited you to her next (sixth!) birthday (mostly so you'd bring cake). Oh, and his hawt Marine older brother who, um, is hawt...is it hot in here...?

It's an exuberant and messy and vibrant way to spend a half-hour and a buck. Not steamy but very endearing. BUT THERE IS A PROBLEM: Four w-bombs in under 2,500 words.

Twenty-four-year-old men do not w-bomb each other.

But there's a lot to be said for exuberant, loud, silly fun. If you're in line somewhere you'd rather not be, download this story for a lousy buck and grin your way through the wait.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

GUESS WHO'S COMING TO KARAMU
CY BLANCA
Dreamspinner Press (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$1.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: A Story from the Warmest Wishes: Dreamspinner Press 2018 Advent Calendar

Grant Cary, a twenty-eight-year-old grad student, has let his Kwanzaa shopping go to the very last minute. In his rush to get home, he quite literally bumps into Will Sheritan, a fortysomething software developer, in the elevator. But luck favors (or curses) the adventurous, because their elevator shuts down due to a blackout. Grant and Will learn about each other’s pasts and find more than just a casual interest.

Will has never celebrated Kwanzaa, and he’s reluctant to enter into a relationship, but exploring a new tradition—with a new friend—might brighten his lonely holiday. And if Will accepts Grant’s invitation to join his family for the Karamu feast, Grant might get his Imani gift early.

I GOT THIS DELIGHT FOR YULE FROM MY FRIEND RONI. *SMOOCH*

My Review: Cute low-steam teaser...straight-people safe. Be sure to bring your sense of humor.

Add to that one of the sexiest men I’ve ever seen—who’s probably as straight as the straightest arrow ever conceived—just so happens to be the sole occupant of this malfunctioning upright coffin. Ladies and gentlemen, the greatest day of my twenty-eight years of life. Hold your applause. There’s bound to be more in store for y’all.

Whatever you're expecting, white people, put it down. Just go for the ride with Will Sheritan & Grant Cary. Trapped in an elevator on Christmas Eve, these men get awkward, flustered, sad, mad, and together in a half hour.

Not to sound too stalkerish, but his {hands} are some of the softest I’ve ever felt. Seriously? What kind of moisturizer does this guy use?

“Grant,” I say. Will sort of scrunches his brow. There’s something on his mind. I’m pretty sure I know what it is before he even says anything.

“You have a last name to go with the first?” Here we go. Well, may as well get this over with. I let out a harsh sigh, then say, “Cary. Grant Cary.”

“There now. That wasn’t so hard, right?” Really, that’s it? No sense in pushing the matter.

Better for being funny as heck. Best for being unwilling to overexplain, to clue you in...you get no info dumps here. What you do get is a happy story about sad people making each other feel better than they felt before they met. An act of Kuumba, an act of Imani, a start not a stop.

“How does anyone expect to get respect if they don’t intend to give it themselves?”

“I know, right?” I say. (Let’s just ignore the fact that the pitch in my voice went from a respectable tenor to animated chipmunk.)

Say it louder, for them still in the back.

BRIARLEY, M/M Beauty & the Beast retelling, & HOW TO CATCH A VET, small-town M/M series romance

HOW TO CATCH A VET
ANA ASHLEY
Self-published
$4.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 3.5* of five

The Publisher Says: The first thing I learned at Vet school was to always expect the unexpected.

Well, I sure never saw Santiago Torres or his adorable Great Dane coming.

Santi is everything I’m not. Tall, confident, overbearing, and if I’m to believe his advances, he’s also very experienced in...well, you know what.

I always play safe, but it’s time to ditch the v-card. We couldn’t be more different, but that doesn’t matter because this is just a one time thing.

I’m not going to want more, right?
I’m not going to fall for him, right?

How to Catch a Vet is the sixth book in the Chester Falls series and features an opposites attract story between a virgin and a player, a Great Dane with a tendency to rescue- read kidnap- other people’s pets, and a small town like no other.

I RECEIVED THIS AS A YULE GIFT. THANKS, ANONYMOUS ELF!

My Review: Author Ana Ashley was brand new to me, but this entry is in a series of connected gay romances that wasn’t at all new...it’s the sixth in an all-from-one-town trope of small-world-building interconnected stories. In this case it’s called “Chester Falls, Connecticut.”

An Army veteran and a small-town veterinarian from the same little town get tangled up...literally...in a meet-cute that got my smiles. Hot guy falls for ordinary one works, too. The fact that it’s in an interconnected series detracted a little bit from my enjoyment because I didn’t get the in-jokes; the way they’re presented I couldn’t miss them being in-jokes. I definitely think the author relies on them being familiar more than is entirely wise.

It's worth mentioning that Santi's got a very real medical condition. It's very interesting to see it used in this way. He's going blind due to Retinitis pigmentosa, a very odd and specific irreversible sentence to a long disabled life for this vigorous, active studly man. It's a very surprising and, to me at least, humanizing choice. The perfect Godly Studly Hottie is changing into a somewhat more dependent, instead of dependable, man. It's a guarantee that he will be making big, big changes in everything about his life. I love the fact that he knows this; he sees (!) that he needs to make changes now instead of being forced to later; and he elects to offer his heart, for the first time in his life, to a regular, good, decent man. I do think it was a good choice. I don't think it was as impactful for me, this reader, because I'm starting the series at book six.

I do mildly recommend the read though with the reservation that there are eight (8) w-bombs and none of them were in any way needed to make any kind or sort of point about the characters doing it or having it done at them.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

BRIARLEY
ASTER GLENN GRAY
Self-published
$2.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 5* of five

The Publisher Says: An m/m World War II-era retelling of Beauty and the Beast.

During a chance summer shower, an English country parson takes refuge in a country house. The house seems deserted, yet the table is laid with a sumptuous banquet such as the parson has not seen since before war rationing.

Unnerved by the uncanny house, he flees, but stops to pluck a single perfect rose from the garden for his daughter - only for the master of the house to appear, breathing fire with rage. Literally.

At first, the parson can't stand this dragon-man. But slowly, he begins to feel the injustice of the curse that holds the dragon captive. What can break this vengeful curse?

I KINDLE-BORROWED THIS BOOK FROM MY FRIEND TEAL. THANK YOU!

My Review: One thing no one tells you about being an adult is that there are no unmixed emotions.

None.

The world is so much harder to navigate without Certainty as your guide, either that you...or your leaders...are Right, Correct, Blessed By Gawd; or that you are damned, doomed!, hopeless and irredeemable! because that is also freedom from the murk and misery of figuring it out step by step, bit by bit, holding as much of a candle as you possess to illuminate annihilating blackness.

What They also fail to mention is: that blackness, the awful weight of it, the airless suffocating relentless gravity? That is the presence and substance of Them, the expectations and blames and angers and recriminations...black is the presence of all colors, weight is the sensation of gravity from so much mass, like a black hole.

White is what you see when there is nothing there. When you scrub off, slip out from under, refuse to pick up their shitty, rotten-souled, stinking cruelty, you lose their weight and your eyes clear the darkness...but unrelieved white is blinding no less than pure black.

So learn this, grasp it, hold it up in front of yourself like a sword: There is no purity in the real, honest world. There are no unmixed emotions. And that is how you learn to navigate and identify the places you are safe. They have your mix of black and white, they match the colors you've chosen and blended, the ones that give your eyes the right shine and your heart the right lift. Drop the purity filters, learn how to see in as many shades between black and white as you can find.

When you will dare anything, anything at all, for someone else, to save them and create the world they want, you are closer to that clarity than at any other time.

You'll never be so brave, so sure, so certain of your actions, as when you rise to serve the ones you love. Nothing, literally no thing, can stop that purity...except nasty old Reality. And that's why we need stories like this one.

Why, I suppose, we need all stories...they provide endings when dank, dismal Reality insists on hauling up the fucking Sun again to glare at you and highlight your crow's feet and shine blindingly on your bald patch.

But sometimes, in the gray place your shadow makes, comes that voice: "did you make the coffee?"

So do it again, Hero.

THE SANTA SUIT, sweet Holiday second-chance story

THE SANTA SUIT
MARY KAY ANDREWS
St. Martin's Press non-affiliate Amazon link)
$10.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: From Mary Kay Andrews, the New York Times bestselling author of Hello, Summer, comes a novella celebrating the magic of Christmas and second chances in The Santa Suit.

When newly-divorced Ivy Perkins buys an old farmhouse sight unseen, she is definitely looking for a change in her life. The Four Roses, as the farmhouse is called, is a labor of love—but Ivy didn't bargain on just how much labor. The previous family left so much furniture and so much junk, that it's a full-time job sorting through all of it.

At the top of a closet, Ivy finds an old Santa suit—beautifully made and decades old. In the pocket of a suit she finds a note written in a childish hand: it's from a little girl who has one Christmas wish, and that is for her father to return home from the war. This discovery sets Ivy off on a mission. Who wrote the note? Did the man ever come home? What mysteries did the Rose family hold?

Ivy's quest brings her into the community, at a time when all she wanted to do was be left alone and nurse her wounds. But the magic of Christmas makes miracles happen, and Ivy just might find more than she ever thought possible: a welcoming town, a family reunited, a mystery solved, and a second chance at love.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: Author Andrews is an established force in romantic-fiction publishing, with thirty-ish successes on her credits. You know, therefore, that you're not going to feel duped or cheated when you read her work. There is no realistic chance you're getting some hyped-up yet unsatisfying work, something you'd look at with frustration as you wondered how to get back those three hours.

What's on offer here is a sweet, unsteamy romantic story about a house, its secrets, and a town full of the kind of people you wouldn't look at twice unless you Believe, like Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. After all, who's to say who's who? The fact that everyone, literally everyone, comes out of this short read with exactly what they need and what the want, well...it's a category romance with a Christmas theme and its title is The Santa Suit. You're getting what you signed up for!

I was drenched in Satan's piss three times (that is, the w-bomb was dropped on my unwilling reader's head) but with a twist: the w-bomber was in all three cases a woman doing that at another woman! So that had the virtue of novelty. It did not make it more pleasant.

There are the expected numbers of miracles, aka coincidences, in the course of the film, I mean novella! There are people doing the right thing grudgingly. but doing it; there are a lot of reminders that this isn't the Big City and everyone knows everyone else. That, mes vieux, is again what you signed up for. And you're going to get your HEA with a heaping tablespoon of sentimentality, too. I can't help myself...I lapped it up, I gurgled with disgust when w-bombed and I squirmed a wee tiny bit when gender politics made me uncomfortable (the Bechdel Test score here is not zero...it's negative). But I lapped it up.

One big reason is that Author Andrews is a seriously experienced wordsmith. I can't quote you any special lines, they're all perfectly adequate and none are lumpenly out of place; they aren't memorable. I didn't go in expecting them to be, so another check in the met-expectations box. I wasn't planning to write a whole review, only a Burgoine, but the presence of the dog Punkin and the four hens (a-calling!, in this case) and the overwhelming presence of Shiny Brite and C9 decorations...well...I was weak.

I love the verve and gusto of people who decorate their fool heads off for the Solstice Holiday, call it Yule or Saturnalia or Christmas. It's a dark, long night and we need the blessèd relief of bright colors and shiny surfaces. In our reads, too. Enjoy this one. Happy Holiday!

ANCIENT OCEANS OF CENTRAL KENTUCKY, a very accomplished first novel

ANCIENT OCEANS OF KENTUCKY
DAVID CONNERLEY NAHM
Two Dollar Radio
$14.00 ebook/paperback bundle at the link above!

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: The boys howled. In their pockets, eye droppers of gin. They skipped to their car with eyes wide open and sped into the night, down gray county roads, grieving over nothing they could name, beating the dashboard with their fists. Near dawn they broke into a cemetery and pissed on the first angel they could find.

Leah's little brother, Jacob, disappeared when the pair were younger, a tragedy that haunts her still. When a grown man arrives at the non-profit Leah directs claiming to be Jacob, she is wrenched back to her childhood, an iridescent tableau of family joy and strife, swimming at the lake, sneaking candy, late-night fears, and the stories told to quell them.

Ancient Oceans of Central Kentucky is a wrecking-ball of a novel that attempts to give meaning and poetry to everything that comprises small-town life in central Kentucky. Listen: they are the ghost stories that children tell one another, the litter that skirts the gulley, the lines at department stores.

Ancient Oceans of Central Kentucky reads as though Anne Carson and Maggie Nelson wrote a more focused Antwerp and based it in central Kentucky. A gorgeous, haunting, prismatic jewel of a book.

I RECEIVED A REVIEW COPY OF THIS BOOK FROM THE PUBLISHER. THANK YOU.

My Review: Deeply surprised that this is a first novel.

Summer comes to Kentucky as a shock, as though it was impossible for the land to ever be green and full again. Magnolias with swollen white petals sway in warm breezes, record-high humid air fills lungs like warm water and the invisible mechanism that animates everything slows as summer's heavy thumb rests on its ancient belts.

It's true that Author Nahm isn't a tyro, having been published in many prestigious venues (eg, Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet) prior to this novel appearing from the midwestern fastness harboring Two Dollar Radio (to whom I offer my thanks for sending me this book), a genuinely exciting press, in 2014.

I'm not sure that the plot will make any difference to you in deciding whether or not to read it. The point of the journey through a smallish Anytown, its civic and familial rituals and failures, is all in the way Author Nahm speaks to us.

The morning was warm. Each drop of light suspended in the air. Against the bricks, the ceiling was a universe of sun-bleached geometric forms and figures waiting for young imaginations to see them.
–and–
Crow Station, Kentucky: a girl at the window watching a shift in the shadows, listening to the sound of the night, the glittering dark above her bed, her father's hands having placed the sky there, cracked plaster rivers among constellations of dead boys and girls, but by morning the vault of the heavens is nothing but white ceiling, though the corners do flutter with dusty webs her parents have not noticed and her brother's bed.
–and–
The television makes only one sound, the soft hum of light.

The focus Author Nahm brings to the light, the surfaces, the ways in and out of every space and every thought of the characters is, for me, the appeal of the book. I love to see the spaces a story takes place within. I am always happy to see evocative, even emotive, language used in conveying a sense of the look, the visual impact, of a space, a person, a point of view. This book is replete with these moments and observations that he has imbued with the emotional resonance to enrich his characters' actions and reactions.

It isn't often that the physical object "book" merits discussion in my review. This object, with its deckled-edge pages that are evocative of an older time when books were delivered without bindings and with uncut signatures direct from the printer, is perfectly in tune with my sense of its story. The novel inside the book benefits from this expensive grace note. The cover, with its french flaps and its matte, uncoated stock, reinforces the days-of-yore feeling that a paperback usually struggles to convey. The beautiful halftone reproductions of ancient fossils from an 1889 monograph on the geology of Kentucky are the lift the book needed to take it into next-level aesthetic harmony between its physical and metaphysical selves.

I saw a Goodreader's addition of the book to his TBR and, oddly enough, that came after my suggestion of this novel to my Young Gentleman Caller in our Sunday-morning Zoom. (He had forgotten about the time change so it was a bit earlier than I was expecting *grumble* so he was vamping until I could open my eyes all the way by asking me what he should read next...my eye lit on this spine in my bookcrate...and we were away.) It's another one of what he amusingly, if accurately, calls my "hardware jobs"...books I've BookDarted so thoroughly that they clank. He's going to be out here soon so I'll hand it over then, but y'all need to get you one! There's a paperback-ebook bundle for only $14! Cheap at twice the price. Honest!

THE NEW FACE OF SMALL-TOWN AMERICA, a ten-year-old study of the realities that piss off White Nationalists

THE NEW FACE OF SMALL-TOWN AMERICA: Snapshots of Latino Life in Allentown, Pennsylvania
EDGAR SANDOVAL
A Keystone Book
$24.95 trade paper, out of print

Rating: 3.75* of five

The Publisher Says: Allentown, Pennsylvania, is a small city located along the Lehigh River in the eastern part of the state. Once the hiding place of the Liberty Bell, Allentown has become a popular destination for Latino immigrants. These Latinos, mostly from Puerto Rico, now make up about a quarter of the city's population, and their numbers continue to grow. The thirty-one stories collected in The New Face of Small-Town America do not reflect the reality of Allentown alone. With U.S. Census figures showing the arrival of Latinos in more small American cities than ever before, Allentown will continue to serve as an example.

These small cities have already experienced, or are about to experience, the transformation Allentown saw. Few communities embrace such change. It is only when one becomes familiar with a foreign concept (or foreigners) that fear disappears and understanding begins. Edgar Sandoval's essays show that behind the accents, ethnic customs, and other cultural differences exists a common humanity with universal problems and dreams. The Latinos profiled here want what everybody else wants: to fit in, to prosper, to offer their children a better future, to be recognized as important members of society by the mainstream. They want to coexist. These stories are not just about Latinos in Allentown, after all; they are about Latinos everywhere.

My Review: A series of newspaper columns written by a Mexican man hired to cover the largely Caribbean Latino population of the Lehigh Valley, this book offers a charming, if choppy and repetitious, insight into the new majority of many, if not most, smaller American cities, the Latinos.

Sandoval was hired by the (Anglophone) owners of the Allentown Daily Call to report on the 25% of the local population that the paper was simply missing. Typically, they hired someone from Mexico! These are *not* the same culture, not even a little bit, and the local Puertoriquenos and Nuyoricans and Dominicans were a little bit wary of the furrin dude with the wild-assed accent. He won them over by dint of his reportorial chops, his charm, and the way he could blend into the woodwork or the crowd, depending on the situational need.

The organizational thread of the book is...well...not very organized. It's all over the town, even the Valley. But it's a collection of newspaper pieces! It's NOT A NARRATIVE, so don't read it as such and you'll find it ever so much easier to enjoy. The book is intended by the author and the publisher to provide an Anglophone audience with a short entree into Latino life and community thought. This goal should be froemost in any reader's thoughts to make the book a successful reading experience.

Well, Mr, Sandoval and I hail from the same part of the world: Nine miles from Mexico, on the Texas/Nuevo Leon border. He's quite a lot younger than I am, but he was a reporter for The Monitor, the Rio Grande Valley's newspaper of record, so I betcha we know people in common: The longtime mayor of McAllen, Othal Brand, is a cousin of mine, and lots of the staffers at the paper know my brother from his years reporting there. So I started this book with a lot of points given to the writer for commonality of experience.

In the end, that is what gave me the reason to give the man 3.75 stars. Really and truly, the book isn't all that; not because Sandoval is deficient as a writer, but because the origin of the stories is a newspaper. There isn't any problem with that, basically, but it really doesn't make for a deep and hearty stew of a read, rather a tasty, lightly buttered toast-point with a decent pâté on it. Not bad at all! Just not something I'll charge about demanding others read instanter.

But do look into it if you're one of the many, many anti-immigrant idiots infecting the body politic. This is the story of your own ancestors, unless you're 100% Native American.

KNOCKEMSTIFF by Donald Ray Pollock...reposting 5-star 2010 review

KNOCKEMSTIFF
Donald Ray Pollock
Anchor Books
$16.95 trade paper, $5.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 5* of five

The Publisher Says: In this unforgettable work of fiction, Donald Ray Pollock peers into the soul of a tough Midwestern American town to reveal the sad, stunted but resilient lives of its residents. Knockemstiff is a genuine entry into the literature of place.Spanning a period from the mid-sixties to the late nineties, the linked stories that comprise Knockemstiff feature a cast of recurring characters who are irresistibly, undeniably real. A father pumps his son full of steroids so he can vicariously relive his days as a perpetual runner-up body builder. A psychotic rural recluse comes upon two siblings committing incest and feels compelled to take action. Donald Ray Pollock presents his characters and the sordid goings-on with a stern intelligence, a bracing absence of value judgments, and a refreshingly dark sense of bottom-dog humor.

My Review: Published in 2008, this collection of eighteen interwoven stories about the lives of the men and women and children caught in rural poverty is the first work by Donald Ray Pollock. He lived in Knockemstiff, a real, honest-to-goodness place. He escaped, sort of, by working for thirty years in a nearby town's papermill.

I don't remember who introduced me to the term “hillbilly noir.” Authors like Bonnie Jo Campbell of American Salvage fame as well as Pollock fall into this category of writers who mine the vein of American underclass misery worked so brilliantly by John Steinbeck and Erskine Caldwell. Noir it certainly is, thematically and in its laconic, almost kabuki play-like, emphasis on grotesque surfaces, implying that every action and every gesture is born out of unfathomable darkness and unbearable pain. The Publishers Weekly review of this collection compares Pollock's work to Winesburg, Ohio. I agree, from a structural point of view, but Sherwood Anderson's grim stories are the comedy stylings of P.G. Wodehouse compared to this collection.

Pollock is brilliantly successful at portraying the...no. Scratch that.

Donald Ray Pollock is brilliant.

I've been bitch-slapped by this writer's ten-inch dick of the imagination. The stories treated me the way those hillbillies treated Ned Beatty in Deliverance. No part of my brain will ever again be clean and unviolated.

There is one story in this collection that, in my humble (!) opinion, doesn't measure up and doesn't belong: “I Start Over,” about a trip through the Dairy Queen drive-through, would be the star turn of any other writer's collection of stories, but here it merely fills up page count and takes the book over 200pp. Left out, no one would notice or feel a lack.

There are two stand-out stories for me, two that should be in high-school literature anthologies and passed from reader to reader with whispered injunctions just to read it, read it: “Schott's Bridge” is the bleak and horrifying story of a young gay man and his fate in this grim, grim world; and “Bactine,” the shortest story in the collection, a quick hit of despair and decline, as two young men escape the present into a futureless fog. They are, in simplest terms, heart-stopping.

But the story that made me hurt the most, though it's not the finest structurally or stylistically, was “Knockemstiff.” Two strangers in a Cadillac convertible, husband and wife, pull into Maude's store for gas, and for the wife to take photos of the “Welcome to Knockemstiff” sign. The husband makes small talk with the clerk, commenting that “[i]t's hard to believe there's people that poor living in this country.” Their condescending words and actions are invisible to them. It's simply inconceivable to these privileged people that others are not, well, envious but impressed by them. They're blind to their cruelty.

I am that California goon, insensitive lout that he is. I've driven through countless places like Knockemstiff in my expensive car, looked out my window, and thought, “No way. This is a movie set. No one lives here, lives like this.” I've stopped for gas, bought a bag of chips, made inconsequential chat with the clerk, wondering the while how he drags himself out of bed to face another day in that kind of place.

I don't want to believe it's true, you see, and I don't like to think that it's not the subject of outrage and outreach and action.

It isn't. Donald Ray Pollock is their voice, these people in the hollers, shouting at us to look, to look, to see the cost of indifference. He's singing an old song. He's doing it well. He's making art, and seducing the susceptible into seeing the invisible, the ignored, the ignoble and unrefined. His artistry is superior. His eye is unerring. His ear is emotional sonar.

Donald Ray Pollock is brilliant.

THE ROPE SWING: Stories by Jonathan Corcoran chronicles West Virginia's economic and social decline in beautiful sentences

This review also appeared at The Oak Wheel.

THE ROPE SWING: Stories
JONATHAN CORCORAN
Vandalia Press
$16.99 trade paper, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: A once-booming West Virginia rail town no longer has a working train. The residents left behind in this tiny hamlet look to the mountains that surround them on all sides: The outside world encroaches, and the buildings of the gilded past seem to crumble more every day.

These are the stories of outsiders—the down and out. What happens to the young boy whose burgeoning sexuality pushes him to the edge of the forest to explore what might be love with another boy? What happens when one lost soul finally makes it to New York City, yet the reminders of his past life are omnipresent? What happens when an old woman struggles to find a purpose and reinvent herself after decades of living in the shadow of her platonic life partner? What happens to those who dare to live their lives outside of the strict confines of the town’s traditional and regimented ways?

The characters in The Rope Swing—gay and straight alike—yearn for that which seems so close but impossibly far, the world over the jagged peaks of the mountains.

My Review: As a whole, this collection deserves possibly more than four stars, but I couldn't get past a feeling of distance that prevented me from becoming fully wrapped up in the life of this West Virginia town. No less a luminary than Jayne Anne Phillips (Lark and Termite remains a favorite of mine years after reading it) praises Corcoran's work. He even got a laudatory review from KIRKUS! I hope his life partner had that embedded in lucite.

As is my habit with collections, I'll go story by story (called the Bryce Method) and give some opinions on each:

Appalachian Swan Song sets the tone for this collection of loosely interlinked collection of vignettes limning the decline and death of a small West Virginia town whose economic purpose has been served, so it is cut adrift by the rest of the money-making world. The very last passenger train is ceremoniously leaving town. All the great and the good, including the widow of the former governor, gather at the depot to ride the last train or to wave it adieu. Festively marking their world's death seems strange, doesn't it? But there was a time that the major civic events of most towns' lives were marked in similar fashion. It's certainly gone out of style now. It's hokey, it's corny, but it was also a way to experience community. Certainly not something we do much of here in the 21st century. Like passenger trains, it's something that seems worth reviving.

The Rope Swing Ah, adolescence! That horrible, awkward, miserable time when your body and mind stop making sense even to you! Add being queer and living in a dinky little burg with people you've known your whole life and, well, what could possibly go right? I think all Adult Survivors of Childhood can relate to the misery of knowing (sort of) what you want (but are terrified) to say to your crush object:

He's afraid that he'll cower into himself again like every other day, and then say nothing at all when he really wants to say everything--to speak his body and his heart into existence.

And the poor lad in this story has a crush object who is quite clear about what he wants, leading the two of them out onto the rope swing that ends hesitation and compels action. The story ends there, in that magic, liminal space of having made the jump but not the landing.

Pauly's Girl For me, the second-most relatable story in the collection. The weird grief-space of the intimate, platonic partner of a dead "friend" isn't in any way acknowledged by existing support systems. A dear and valued woman-friend of mine, whom I'd known for 26 years, died suddenly. I was distraught, and those around me at that time looked at me as though I was a head case for being upset that someone I'd spoken to daily, someone I'd traveled tens of thousands of miles with, was missing from my world. It is an amputation, and others don't spare that relationship's specialness a moment's thought. Pauly's girl can't quite figure out what to do, think, or feel, since she's always had Pauly around to lead. The story ends hopefully, though:

She walked down the lawn and surveyed the world as they'd both seen it--the wild limbs of the leaning apple tree, the golden-brown evening sky, the black silhouettes of the mountains. The trunk and the branches of the tree had bent over the years, under the weight of the heavy fruit. One of the biggest branches had grown down from the canopy of the leaves, all the way to the ground and straight along the grass...the end of that same branch had begun growing up again, at a right angle, the wood bending toward the sky.

Through the Still Hours is a painful reminder of a tale that no matter what, with the best of intentions, relationships change and not always for the better. A male couple, living in the midst of all the people they've always known, celebrate their fourth anniversary in a sexless, silent struggle to come to grips with their basic incompatibility. Who knows when it began to eat at one or both of them, who cares why, now is the moment the problem comes to a head like a boil. Their oblivious friends, the supposed celebratory dance outing, none of it is distracting enough. Over is painful, but real.

Felicitations is the least interesting story to me, perhaps because the world of the wealthy West Virginians is the setting. I've been around those people most of my life, and they are boring to me. The doctor sexing up another doctor story does nothing for me, either. As to the stakes set into the story, well...seems to me she is cold and selfish and he is a wussy, and that's without interest to me, too. YMMV, of course.

Corporeal sets a misfit adolescent girl on a search for her father. Her mother's a class-A head case, her father lives on the wrong side of the tracks in a place that at best is somewhere most of us would consider the wrong side of the tracks. She speaks to her father's neighbor, an older man finishing out his allotted span in squalor and drunkenness. It's sort of exciting for an adolescent to relate to an adult one-to-one. As such things often do, however, her social time with the old man ends with his grappling with her, kissing her. And then from wherever his decency sank some bubbled up and he throws the child out. As she leaves to slink quietly home, she comes to a decision:

She was not sure if she knew her father, or even if she wanted to anymore. She wanted to go home into her bed and hide under the covers. She took her father's key from her key ring. She left it carefully on the doorstep and ran through the quiet night toward home.

Hank the King follows a colossal loser through his daily routine, until one too many screaming matches with his wife send him off to gamble and drink his empty, loveless day away. He finally gives up his last masculinity-defining object, a prized gun, and returns to his loveless home, gives his wife $1000, and goes on a bender. Wonderfully enough he loses all his stake money, all his winnings, and none of his despair. Happy ending? How would that even look to a man in Hank's kind of life? And so I say it's wonderful because Corcoran doesn't pretty it up or grubby it down. It's real, it's true. Trust him. Trust Hank, too.

Excavation takes a pair of teens into the forbidden precincts of a condemned and collapsing school, relic of the town's palmier days as a transportation hub for the Appalachian treasure being stripped out...wait, different topic...so these two kids, scared of the dark, musty, and truly dangerous building, go searching for something, anything interesting to take out and prove they were there. When a fire starts by means unknown, they're trapped until they put their heads together and escape through a double-boarded window. Running away, they discuss in a swivet the fear of being blamed for the fire. In the end, holding hands, the fire consumes the superfluous grandeur of the school and cements this young pair into a couple.

Brooklyn, 4 a.m. is a tender love letter to a long-term partner. It is short and it is complete and it is full of joy.

A Touch upset me quite a lot, as it focuses the attention of an older, neurotic mess of a man on a young survivor of a horrific hate crime. The nature of the crime brings me to the edge of screaming, but I will leave it for you to discover. The older man's response, a repelled fascination that his drinking buddy encourages him to leave by not being so obvious..."leave the poor man alone"...ends with a close approximation of stalking, yet another point of anger for me. So while I can't say I enjoyed this story, I can attest to the honesty and effectiveness of the writing: I was a trembling, nauseated wreck when I finished it.

My take on Jonathan Corcoran is that we'll hear more from him, and it will be good and get better. Start here with this collection, say you knew his writing when.