Monthly Features – April 2026

SETTUP by TK Thoits

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: Respected neurologist and researcher Stella Murray was confident the FDA would approve the experimental medication based on its demonstrated superior efficacy. Knowing a serious side effect would not derail the approval process, she reports that a patient had a significant reaction to the investigational drug.

Shortly thereafter, Grand Rapids Detective Troy Evans is called to investigate the suspicious death of a Site Monitor who, he learns, worked with Murray. Evans asks Murray to educate him on the unfamiliar world of medical research. She discloses that conducting investigational drug studies has become a multibillion-dollar industry, with power brokers providing more oversight than the government.

When Murray informs Evans that a second Site Monitor has been killed, they team up to take down the corruption that is mercilessly burying unwelcome researchers and results of a promising drug trial.

Summary: Overall,  SETTUP is a fast, detail-heavy medical thriller that starts in the ER and expands into a layered story involving clinical trials, corporate pressure, and a criminal subplot. The medical realism is strong, and the tension builds as the threads begin to connect. The tone can shift a bit—especially with the assassin storyline—but it adds a darker, more unsettling edge. Best for readers who like medical dramas with conspiracy elements and multiple POVs rather than a single, straightforward narrative. 

See the full review here: SETTUP
Purchase here


 

The Knight’s Last Stand by Bear Pardun

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: In a world where gods walk among mortals and divine tyranny crushes the innocent, one knight’s investigation into ritual murders uncovers a conspiracy that threatens to consume an entire city. Commander Victus Andreas discovers that the seemingly random cult killings in Lindly are part of a far darker plan—the dark elven goddess Lestar seeks to harvest the souls of every citizen to feed her master’s insatiable hunger for power.
When Victus returns from his annual pilgrimage to find his city overrun by disguised dark elves posing as holy inquisitors, he must rally a small band of loyal soldiers, his adopted son Aris, and unlikely allies to stand against overwhelming odds. As ancient magic tears through the city and divine politics threaten to destroy everything he’s sworn to protect, Victus faces an impossible choice: save his people or preserve his own soul.
With breathtaking battles, complex characters wrestling with duty and honor, and a magic system that explores the cost of power, Battle of Lindly launches an epic fantasy series that challenges the very nature of divine authority. In Bear Pardun’s richly imagined world, heroes are forged not by destiny, but by the courage to defy gods themselves.

Summary:  Overall, I found this book to be a gritty, sincere fantasy that leans hard into classic themes of honor, sacrifice, and legacy. The writing had an emotional core — especially the father-son relationship and the relentless sense of duty.  If you like fantasy that is sincere about honor, duty, and sacrifice, then this book could be for you. 

See the full review here: The Knight’s Last Stand
Purchase here


 

Review: The Brighter the Light, The Darker the Shadow by Verlin Darrow

Synopsis:

Kade Tobin needs every bit of his wisdom as the leader of a rural spiritual community to remain true to his core values as murders pile up around him. Drawn into helping to solve the mystery by a sheriff’s detective, Kade sorts through the array of quirky seekers on the community’s land, only to end up as the defendant in a suspense-filled trial. He struggles to maintain a stance of kindness while he endures bullies in the jail, a vengeful DA, and the pending judgment of twelve strangers. As the prosecution parades witness after witness, the mounting evidence against Kade becomes alarmingly damning. If he were a juror, Kade believes he might vote to convict himself at this stage of his trial. But he also trusts the universe. Kade remains confident that a force greater than himself–and the justice system–has other plans for him. Or does it?

Favorite Lines:

“Most of us humans are burdened by the tyranny of continuity—the ongoing, sequential storylines we feel compelled to construct. What about directly experiencing life—letting it tell us about itself?”

“The world isn’t going to adapt to suit us. We need to transform ourselves to match it as best as we can in order to step away from an adversarial relationship with it.”

“The truth is what matters…If telling it brings up feelings for me, it’s my job to manage those internally. I’ve found that when I avoid something uncomfortable, it just sets up a day of reckoning. It usually ends up worse than whatever the original experience would’ve been.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

This one opens in a way that feels deceptively calm. A man, his dog, a quiet morning in a spiritual community tucked into the Santa Cruz mountains. Then there’s a body. And just like that, whatever sense of peace existed gets pulled apart.

What makes this book interesting isn’t really the murder itself. It’s the lens we’re forced to look through. Kade Tobin isn’t your typical protagonist. He’s not scrambling, panicking, or even especially reactive. He’s… observing. Processing. Filtering everything through this spiritual framework that’s supposed to keep him grounded, even when something objectively horrific is sitting a few feet away.

And honestly, that tension is the most compelling part of the book. There’s this constant push and pull between detachment and reality. Kade wants to “experience everything fully,” but when faced with something truly brutal, he flinches like anyone else. That contradiction feels very human, even if the surrounding philosophy sometimes drifts into abstract territory.

The community itself is where things really start to take shape. The Brethren of Congruence is filled with people who are, for lack of a better word, messy. Not in a dramatic, over-the-top way, but in a very believable one. You’ve got people running from past lives, people trying to fix themselves, people who probably shouldn’t be living in a secluded group dynamic at all. The interviews with each member are where the book slows down, but also where it gains texture.

Some of those conversations feel intentionally frustrating. Characters dodge questions, spiral into philosophy, or fixate on things that seem completely irrelevant to a murder investigation. At first it reads like distraction, but over time it starts to feel more like a point. These people don’t operate on the same wavelength as the detective, and that disconnect creates a kind of quiet friction throughout the story.

Detective Cullen is a solid counterbalance. He’s grounded, practical, and increasingly irritated by everything he’s dealing with. His skepticism gives the story structure when it threatens to drift too far into introspection. The dynamic between him and Kade works because neither fully respects the other’s worldview, but they still need each other to move forward.

This is not a traditional mystery. If you’re expecting tight plotting and constant forward momentum, this might feel slow. The narrative is more interested in ideas, personalities, and internal dialogue than in building suspense in a conventional way.

That said, there’s something quietly effective about how it all unfolds. The sense that something is off, not just with the crime but with the people around it, lingers in the background. And the deeper you get into the community, the less certain everything feels.

It’s less about solving a murder and more about understanding the environment it happened in.

Summary:

Overall, this is a slow-burn, character-driven mystery set inside a secluded spiritual community. The story leans heavily into philosophy, interpersonal dynamics, and psychological nuance rather than fast-paced plot. Readers who enjoy introspective or philosophical fiction that feature more character studies than action may enjoy this book. Happy reading!

Check out The Brighter the Light, The Darker the Shadow here!


 

Review: Lovely by Rin Sangar

Synopsis:

Heather Strand is seventeen years old and wants nothing more than to escape the small town she was born and raised in, until she learns there is something far more sinister at play in her life. A gothic horror set in the bible belt of the American south, LOVELY is filled with fear and teenage life, creating both a coming-of-age story and a late-night creature feature.

Favorite Lines:

“Tomorrow morning, a child’s dead body will rise up from the depths of the lake, pale and bloated. Tomorrow afternoon, a city cab will carry Heather Strand back into town after a three month absence. Tomorrow everything would change – but for tonight, there was a moment of blissful ignorance hanging in the air.”

“It was still out there, too still. The woods waited.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

There’s something off about Lovely from the very first page, and it doesn’t try to hide it. The opening feels calm, almost pretty, with this quiet small-town evening settling in. But then it immediately undercuts itself with that line about a child’s body rising from the lake the next day. That contrast sets the tone for everything that follows. It’s not trying to scare you in big, dramatic ways. It’s more about that slow realization that something is deeply wrong here.

Heather is not an easy character to like, but she is very easy to believe. She comes back to town already cracked open, carrying something heavy from wherever she’s been, and the story doesn’t rush to explain it. The way she moves through the world feels numb and sharp at the same time. Her relationship with Tyler adds another layer that feels messy in a very human way. It’s not romantic in a clean or comforting sense. It’s complicated, sometimes uncomfortable, and that fits the tone of the book really well.

What stood out to me most is how the town itself feels like the main character. Lovely isn’t just a setting. It feels aware, like it’s watching everything happen. The interwoven stories from different time periods build this sense that whatever is happening has been happening for a long time. The archivist discovering patterns in old deaths, the summer camp massacre, the stories about people who pass through and don’t make it out. None of these are thrown in randomly. They stack on top of each other until it starts to feel less like coincidence and more like a system.

The writing leans heavily on atmosphere, and it works. There are a lot of quiet moments that stretch just long enough to feel uncomfortable. The woods, the lake, even the empty streets all carry this weight to them. There’s also this recurring idea that something is mimicking people, blending in just well enough to go unnoticed. That concept sticks in the back of your mind and makes everything else feel more unsettling.

The pacing is interesting. It jumps between present day and different points in the past, which can feel a little disjointed at first, but it starts to click once you realize each piece is adding to the same pattern. It’s less about following a straight plot and more about slowly uncovering what this place is capable of. By the time Heather and Tyler start digging into Max’s death, it doesn’t feel like an isolated event anymore. It feels like they’ve stepped into something much bigger than either of them understands.

This isn’t a clean mystery where everything gets tied up neatly. It leans more into unease than answers. You’re not just asking what happened. You’re asking what kind of place this is, and whether it was ever safe to begin with.

Summary:

Overall, this was a slow-burning, atmospheric horror set in a small town that feels alive in all the wrong ways. It’s less about solving a single mystery and more about uncovering what the town itself might be hiding. Best for readers who like eerie, layered stories with multiple timelines and a lingering sense of unease rather than fast-paced horror. Happy reading!

Check out Lovely here!


 

Review: SETTUP by TK Thoits

Synopsis:

Respected neurologist and researcher Stella Murray was confident the FDA would approve the experimental medication based on its demonstrated superior efficacy. Knowing a serious side effect would not derail the approval process, she reports that a patient had a significant reaction to the investigational drug.

Shortly thereafter, Grand Rapids Detective Troy Evans is called to investigate the suspicious death of a Site Monitor who, he learns, worked with Murray. Evans asks Murray to educate him on the unfamiliar world of medical research. She discloses that conducting investigational drug studies has become a multibillion-dollar industry, with power brokers providing more oversight than the government.

When Murray informs Evans that a second Site Monitor has been killed, they team up to take down the corruption that is mercilessly burying unwelcome researchers and results of a promising drug trial.

Favorite Lines:

“Sometimes having the loudest voice in the decision-making process didn’t matter.”

“Filling out the death report was his way of delaying that which he dreaded the most. Notification of the parents.”

“‘You can be a real dick sometimes. How does your better half, no, your extremely superior half put up with you?’ ‘She tells me that I was lucky to marry up.'”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

SETTUP opens in a way that immediately tells you what kind of story you’re stepping into—fast, clinical, and a little unsettling. The ER scene with the teenage patient in status epilepticus isn’t just dramatic for the sake of it—it feels real. The details are sharp, almost uncomfortably so, and you can tell right away that this book is going to lean heavily on medical realism. It doesn’t ease you in. It drops you straight into it.

From there, the story expands quickly into something bigger than just a single patient case. What starts as a medical situation turns into something that feels more like a layered thriller—part hospital drama, part research conspiracy, part crime story. Stella Murray is probably the emotional anchor of the book. She’s competent, driven, and grounded in a way that makes the more chaotic elements around her feel believable. Her concern about the study drug doesn’t feel dramatic—it feels like someone who knows something is off but doesn’t yet have proof.

And then the book takes a turn.

The introduction of the corporate side—and especially the darker thread involving the trial, the pressure to suppress adverse events, and the decision to eliminate a problem rather than solve it—is where things shift from grounded to unsettling. The email exchange with KFAP is honestly one of the most jarring parts of the book, but in a way that works. It’s bizarre, a little darkly comedic, and also deeply uncomfortable. The contrast between the tone of those emails and the seriousness of what’s actually happening creates this strange tension that sticks with you.

KFAP as a character is… a lot. He’s unpredictable, unsettling, and written in a way that almost makes him feel detached from reality. But that’s also kind of the point. He’s not meant to feel normal. He’s meant to feel like someone operating outside the rules everyone else is trying to follow. And when his storyline intersects with the medical plot, the stakes suddenly feel very real in a different way.

The detective side of the story adds another layer that I actually liked more than I expected. Evans is methodical, grounded, and a nice counterbalance to the chaos happening behind the scenes. His sections slow things down in a good way—they give you space to process what just happened while also pushing the mystery forward.

If there’s one thing this book does well, it’s juggling multiple threads without losing the core tension. The medical mystery, the ethical gray area of clinical trials, the corporate pressure, and the crime element all feed into each other. You can feel the pieces moving toward something bigger, even when the story jumps perspectives.

This story reads like a hybrid between a medical drama and a conspiracy thriller with a darker edge. It’s not subtle, but it is engaging. And once things start connecting, it becomes hard to put down.

Summary:

Overall,  SETTUP is a fast, detail-heavy medical thriller that starts in the ER and expands into a layered story involving clinical trials, corporate pressure, and a criminal subplot. The medical realism is strong, and the tension builds as the threads begin to connect. The tone can shift a bit—especially with the assassin storyline—but it adds a darker, more unsettling edge. Best for readers who like medical dramas with conspiracy elements and multiple POVs rather than a single, straightforward narrative. Happy reading!

 

Check out SETTUP here!
Book Trailer


 

Review: Driftless Spirits by Karen Ringel

Synopsis:

Charlotte Burke can’t shake her recurring dream. Over and over again she dreams of finding a mysterious journal on a candlelit desk while wandering through a strange house in the middle of the night. Every dream has shown her a framed picture of an old woman sitting at the same desk, except the latest version. Last night, the woman stood and offered Charlotte a keyring. In the morning, Charlotte woke up with her car keys in her hand.

Her best friend is worried but skeptical when Charlotte insists the house is real. The dream is metaphorical, Ivy says, reflecting Charlotte’s restless state. Ivy gifts her a journal and urges her to take the trip her subconscious is demanding before she wakes up behind the wheel. A roadtrip of self-discovery will help Charlotte figure out what she really wants.

Charlotte agrees to the trip but not for Ivy’s reasons. To her, the house, the journal and the woman in her dream are all too real. She sets off to do the impossible. She doesn’t know it yet, but if she can find the house and uncover its secrets in time, she might save far more than her driftless life.

Favorite Lines:

“It’s the kind of place that passerby barely notice and would never stop. It’s also the kind of place that’s cherished if you live there.”

“The internet has everything if you look hard enough.”

“Sometimes you just have to take a chance and jump.”

“Drifting through some days was fine but drifting through her years without intention squandered a precious gift.

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

From the opening dream sequence, Driftless Spirits establishes an atmosphere rooted in intuition, restlessness, and the slow pull of something unnamed. Charlotte’s story feels immediately familiar in the best way. She is not running from tragedy or danger but from stagnation, from the unsettling realization that her life has begun to feel paused. That emotional starting point gives the book a gentle but persistent momentum.

What Ringel does especially well is treat place as both setting and catalyst. Wisconsin’s Driftless region is not just where the story happens, it is part of what the story is about. The landscape mirrors Charlotte’s internal state: winding roads, unexpected valleys, quiet towns that seem easy to overlook unless you stop and really look. Casten’s Horn feels lived in rather than constructed, and its routines, celebrations, and peculiar rhythms give the town a sense of layered history without overwhelming the narrative.

Charlotte herself is an easy protagonist to root for because her doubts feel honest and unembellished. Her curiosity outweighs her fear, but just barely, and that balance keeps the tension grounded. The mystery elements arrive slowly and organically, never disrupting the cozy tone but gently complicating it. The supernatural aspects are understated and feel more like an extension of intuition and memory than something overtly threatening, which makes them more intriguing than alarming.

At its core, Driftless Spirits is a story about listening. Listening to instincts, to forgotten history, to places that seem to call quietly rather than loudly. The novel resists neat answers and dramatic twists, opting instead for gradual revelation and emotional payoff. It invites the reader to slow down, pay attention, and trust that small moments can still carry significance. The result is a story that feels comforting without being predictable, and reflective without losing narrative direction.

Summary:

Overall, Driftless Spirits may appeal to readers who enjoy cozy mysteries, gentle supernatural elements, and character-driven stories set in small towns. It is well suited for those who appreciate atmospheric storytelling, introspective journeys, and mysteries that unfold through mood and discovery rather than danger. Readers who enjoy themes of self-rediscovery, intuition, and place-based storytelling will likely find this a satisfying and quietly engaging read. Happy reading!

Check out Driftless Spirits here!


 

Review: The Amalfi Secret by Dean and Catherine Reineking

Synopsis:

When Gabe Roslo arrives in Amalfi, Italy, a long-awaited reunion with his grandparents takes a tragic turn. His beloved grandfather is dead—and a cryptic diary left behind is Gabe’s only clue to the mystery surrounding his sudden death. But what starts as a personal tragedy quickly spirals into a high-stakes international puzzle.

Teaming up with Anna, a resourceful Roman local, Gabe follows a trail of hidden truths that stretches from the stunning Amalfi coast to the corridors of global power. Secret codes, powerful enemies, and a legacy of deception pull them into a world where nothing is as it seems. With each twist, they are forced to question their allies and uncover dark secrets that could shift the global balance of power.

But as the walls close in, Gabe and Anna must risk everything to expose the truth before it’s buried forever. Will they decipher the mystery and reveal the sinister forces at play? Or will they become the next victims of The Amalfi Secret?
Perfect for fans of Dan Brown and Robert Ludlum, The Amalfi Secret is a pulse-pounding thriller that will keep you guessing until the final, breathtaking twist.

Favorite Lines:

“She was slight of stature and frail to look at, but he knew from experience that she had an inner strength that would get her through almost any trial.”

“The Italians sure have style. Only  here would someone wear black leather driving gloves.”

“We Italians are more concerned with beauty than perfection.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

The Amalfi Secret is the kind of thriller that sneaks up on you. It starts quietly, almost cinematically, and before you realize it, you’ve been swept into a world of prophecies, politics, and secrets buried deep in the marble corridors of history. The story moves between the present and the past with a rhythm that feels effortless, and even when the stakes climb, the authors manage to keep the human element right where it belongs—at the center. What surprised me most wasn’t the espionage or the religious intrigue, but the emotion underneath it all. It’s a story about love, legacy, and how far people will go to protect the truth.

There’s a gravity to the writing that reminds me of old-school political thrillers, but with more heart. Gabe Roslo is not your typical hero; he’s quietly capable, haunted, and deeply loyal. His grief feels genuine, and his need for answers pulls you along as much as the mystery itself. The story’s backdrop—the cliffs of Amalfi, the solemn air of Rome, the shadowed corners of the Vatican—adds an atmospheric beauty to the unfolding tension. You can almost smell the sea salt and espresso as danger closes in.

I also appreciated that the authors didn’t rush the reveal. They take their time, letting secrets drip out through journal entries, coded mirrors, and the wary exchanges between friends who might not be what they seem. Every conversation feels loaded, every clue slightly out of reach. The pacing builds slowly but deliberately. And just when you think you understand the scope of the story, it widens again—to global conspiracies, ancient orders, and moral choices that test faith and loyalty.

This isn’t just a novel about espionage or religion—it’s about the spaces between them. About belief turned dangerous, power wrapped in prophecy, and how history never stays buried for long. It’s a slow burn that rewards patience and curiosity, a blend of The Da Vinci Code’s intrigue with All the Light We Cannot See’s emotional depth. If you like stories that balance intellect with heart, this one lingers after you close the book.

Summary:

Overall, The Amalfi Secret is a richly layered political and historical thriller that blends mystery, faith, and love against a vivid European backdrop. It’s ideal for readers who enjoy intelligent thrillers, religious or historical mysteries, dual-timeline narratives, and character-driven suspense. Happy reading!

Check out The Amalfi Secret here!


 

Reviews: The Moaning Lisa by Rosemary and Larry Mild

Synopsis:

If Paco and Molly LeSoto captivated you in Locks and Cream CheeseHot Grudge Sunday, and Boston Scream Pie, you’re sure to love The Moaning Lisa—their fourth murder mystery with a smidgen of humor.

Now in their eighties, Paco and Molly have moved into Gilded Gates, an assisted living community in Maryland. They expect their golden years to be blissful. They are dead wrong. Some residents are missing and no one knows what has happened to them.

One suspicious resident is a sleepwalker and claims to have heard mysterious moaning during his night walks, but for the life of him he can’t figure out where the anguished sounds are coming from.

“Inspector Paco” has retired as head of the Black Rain Corners police force. But many residents of Gilded Gates fear they might be next on the list of the missing. They beg Paco to investigate.

Naturally, Molly also pokes her keen nose and shrewd insights into the baffling disappearances.

Favorite Lines:

“Getting old is not for sissies”

“The movie’s nothing like the book.”

“Molly, sweetie, I’ve got four good reasons to love you. One, you’re the kindest, most considerate person I know. Tow, you’re clever and creative enough to help me with my detective work. Three, you’re the only one that knows how to put up with me. And four, there’s so much more of you to love.”

“You know, sweetie, we have something most marriages never achieve. We’re a team!”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the authors in exchange for my honest opinion.

The Moaning Lisa is filled with heart, humor, and the kind of small-town mystery that never needs to shout to hold your attention. Paco and Molly LeSoto’s adventures continue as they face both personal decline and a new mystery that brews inside an assisted living community. The story blends humor and heartache as the couple navigates health scares, reluctant moves, and the strange cast of residents and staff at Gilded Gates.

What makes this book shine isn’t the crime itself, but the humanity around it. The authors write aging not as tragedy but as transformation—stubborn, funny, and full of life. Molly’s dialogue is full of warmth and humor even in the book’s heaviest moments. Paco’s quiet steadiness softens the edges, grounding the story in love rather than cynicism.

There’s a sly intelligence in the way Rosemary and Larry Mild handle tone—balancing mystery with a real tenderness toward their characters. It’s the sort of mystery you don’t rush through; you linger for the small moments. Beneath the cozy veneer is a subtle sadness about time, loss, and how people try to hold on to purpose when life insists on taking things away.

If you like your mysteries with heart instead of hard edges, The Moaning Lisa is that kind of read—quietly moving, funny in its own offbeat way, and filled with two characters who feel lived-in, not written.

Summary:

Overall, The Moaning Lisa is a story about love late in life, about finding purpose even when the world starts shrinking. Recommended for readers who love gentle mysteries like The Thursday Murder Club —especially those who prefer character-driven storytelling, sharp humor, and a dash of melancholy beneath the charm. Happy reading!

Check out The Moaning Lisa here!


 

Review: The Regression Strain by Kevin Hwang

Synopsis:

Nobody’s safe when the inner beast awakens…

Dr. Peter Palma joins the medical team of the Paradise to treat passengers for minor ailments as the cruise ship sails across the Atlantic. But he soon discovers that something foul is festering under the veneer of leisure. Deep in the bowels of the ship, a vile affliction pits loved ones against each other and shatters the bonds of civil society. The brig fills with felons, the morgue with bodies, and the vacation becomes a nightmare.

One by one, the chaos claims Peter’s allies. His mentor spirals into madness and the security chief fights a losing battle against anarchy. No help comes from the captain, who has an ego bigger than the ocean.

With the ship racing toward an unprepared New York, the fate of humanity hinges on Peter’s deteriorating judgment. But he’s hallucinating and delirious…and sometimes primal urges are impossible to resist.

The Regression Strain is a fast-paced medical thriller laced with psychological suspense, perfect for fans of Michael Crichton and Blake Crouch.

Favorite Lines:

“Right back into it, then. He was a kid on a roller coaster cresting the first big incline—the moment before the bottom fell out. He opened the closet and confronted his uniform. Sure, he’d paid for the ride, but that didn’t make it any less stomach-churning.”

“Funny how standards eroded in the face of devastation.”

“The holes in his memory were filling in like groundwater welling up in the paw prints of a rabid raccoon. Muddy and random.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

What starts as a slow simmer quickly boils over in The Regression Strain, Kevin Hwang’s debut that’s equal parts medical mystery, psychological spiral, and pandemic-era existential horror. It’s not a long book, but it’s the kind that lingers—creeping into your thoughts days after you’ve closed it.

The story follows Dr. Peter Palma caught in the chaos of a rapidly spreading fungal pandemic. But Hwang doesn’t just want to tell a virus-outbreak story. He wants to pick at your nerves. The plot slips between sanity, and reality in a way that’s deliberately disorienting. Think fever dream with a med school vocabulary. And I mean that as a compliment.

What makes this novel hum is the way Hwang blends scientific precision with narrative messiness. There’s an almost surgical attention to detail in the clinical scenes—no surprise, given Hwang’s background in medicine—but it never feels like a lecture. Instead, the book immerses you in the  high-stakes environment of a cruise ship in the midst of a mysterious illness, only to pull the rug out with unsettling shifts in tone and perception. At times, I questioned whether what I was reading was happening at all—much like the narrator himself. It’s a risky move, but it works.

Stylistically, it won’t be for everyone. The prose can be clipped and clinical one moment, then rush into sensory overload the next. It’s intentional and immersive, but it can make for a slightly uneven reading experience. That said, if you’re the kind of reader who doesn’t mind being dropped into the deep end—without floaties—there’s a lot to appreciate here.

Emotionally, The Regression Strain taps into something very now. The anxiety of being overeducated but powerless. The loneliness of a pandemic. The slow erosion of certainty. It’s not a comforting read, but it’s a relatable one, especially if you’ve ever tried to logic your way through a crisis and come out the other side more confused than when you started.

Summary:

Overall, is it horror? Sci-fi? Psychological drama? Honestly, it’s all of the above and then some. Hwang doesn’t seem interested in coloring within genre lines, and that’s part of the fun. The Regression Strain is sharp, strange, and surprisingly affecting. It’s not your typical outbreak story—It’s weirder (in a good way), smarter, and a bit sadder.

Can we also take a minute to acknowledge that Hwang is a whole father and doctor and still somehow found time to write this masterpiece, I am in awe! If you like horror, suspense, action, medical mysteries, sci-fi, and/or thrillers then this book could be for you. Happy reading!

Check out The Regression Strain here!


 

Review: With Time to Kill by Frank Ferrari

Synopsis:

Everyone deserves a second chance, but how far would you go for one?

In the gritty streets of Edinburgh, Garry Plumb is about to find out. Living life on the periphery, never fitting in and always on his own, Garry’s world opens up when he meets Billy, the peculiar bus driver who has been watching him. Billy knows exactly how it feels to be ignored and his influence on Garry is immediate.

For the first time, Garry knows what it means to have his very own best friend. But this friendship is unlike any other, as Billy reveals how Garry can fix his entire life by changing his past.

But when the DCI John Waters, a relentless detective hunting a clever serial killer, enters Garry’s life, their friendship is put to the ultimate test.

Garry is willing to do anything for a second chance at life but, after meeting Billy, he has to ask would he kill for it?

This dark and captivating tale of self-discovery, murder and redemption will keep readers on the edge of their seats. With Time to Book One, a perfect blend of Scottish crime and sci-fi thriller, will leave you wanting more.

Favorite Lines:

“Good morning, fabulous Major Investigations Team of this fair city.”

“It was clear to anyone observing Waters and his team that the level of respect he commanded and, in turn, the support he provided was unparalleled.”

“The sky was clear and the air a little muggy, which was great for the flowers. Doing not nearly so well was the salmon pink shirt Billy wore, which threatened to show the world exactly what his nipples looked like as he made his way to the hospital.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Frank Ferrari’s With Time to Kill doesn’t so much open as detonate. Within the first few pages we meet Garry Plumb, an Edinburgh every-man whose crippling invisibility at the office hides a far darker secret: he is also “one of the most prolific serial killers no one has ever heard of”. Ferrari drops that bombshell with such off-hand confidence that you know you’re not putting this book down after that.

From there the book splits its focus between Garry’s quietly methodical murders and Detective Chief Inspector John Waters, a rum-voiced Highlander whose Major Investigations Team is scrambling to explain a sudden spike in corpses around the city. Waters’s squad-room banter—equal parts gallows humour and procedural grit—gives the thriller its pulse, and the moment they realise all the victims were “assigned female at birth” the anxiety kicks up a gear. Running parallel is the oily bus-driver Billy Blunt, whose cheerful note slips under Garry’s fingers at lunchtime and drags the story into a gloriously seedy pub called The Northern Lights.

What elevates the novel beyond a straight serial-killer chase is Ferrari’s time-travel conceit. Garry isn’t just killing; he’s pruning history with an organic device he calls a “Carrier,” hopping back to erase abusers and bullies before they ever bloom. The ethical whiplash is terrific fun: one minute you’re rooting for him as avenging angel, the next you’re recoiling as the body-count rises. Ferrari keeps that moral compass spinning but never lets the sci-fi mechanics bog the narrative; the rules are clear enough to follow yet just sketchy enough to stay unnerving.

Stylistically, the prose lands somewhere between Tartan Noir and Blake Crouch’s twisty thrillers. Ferrari writes working-class Edinburgh with an affectionate sneer—sticky pub carpets, passive-aggressive rain, and HR managers you’d cheerfully shove off North Bridge. The pacing sprints, brakes, then careens again, and while a couple of subplot threads feel set up for book two, the central cat-and-mouse delivers the promised gut-punch. A special shout-out to Waters, whose Occam’s-razor lecture is the most charming digression on medieval philosophy I’ve read in a police procedural

Summary:

Overall, With Time to Kill is a gleefully dark mash-up of police procedural, serial-killer horror, and high-concept time travel. If you like your thrillers smart, Scottish, and just a little bit unhinged, clear an evening—you’ll race through this and immediately want the sequel. Happy reading!

Check out With Time to Kill here!


 

Review: A Song at Dead Man’s Cove by Ana Yudin

Synopsis:

Never turn your back on the ocean…

2023. Another person has disappeared at Dead Man’s Cove in coastal Washington. Jaded from her job at the historic Irving Hotel, Zarya wanders to the scene of the tragedy. She has heard her Russian mother’s tales of rusalki—vengeful spirits that have died unclean deaths near a body of water—and never paid them much attention. But now, on a misty headland beside an abandoned lighthouse, Zarya locks eyes with the rusalka and is chosen to be the next victim. She must unearth the siren’s tragedy before Rusalka Week, a period in early summer when water-spirits roam freely on land.

1850. Josephine has just joined her newlywed husband in Washington, in the lighthouse erected by local businessman Hurley Irving. Marriage is not quite what she expected, and her melancholia grows over the course of the winter. The medic prescribes pregnancy as the antidote. What he doesn’t realize is how far Josephine is willing to go in order to become a mother.

The Gothic horror novel follows two protagonists, a modern-day misanthrope who fears intimacy and a woman in the Victorian era who thinks stealing love will make her whole. But how long can a person hide from love, and can love really be taken by force?

Favorite Lines:

“She decided right then and there that there are two kinds of loneliness: the kind borne of solitude, and the kind that swelters in a crowd full of people. In both cases, loneliness was the same—it emptied the soul until there was nothing left. No distractions could ever be enough to feel full again.”

“She could not have known what was about to happen. She could not have known that the ocean would break its promise to her. “

“Josephine seemed determined to never learn her lesson—that one cannot take love by force, that love must be freely given to be real.”

“Grief could be a funny thing. Sometimes, the biggest loss of all was for a person who had never even existed.”

My Opinion:

Ana Yudin’s A Song at Dead Man’s Cove is a chilling, atmospheric blend of contemporary mystery and gothic folklore, wrapped in lyrical prose and deep emotional undercurrents. Set in a sleepy coastal town plagued by a history of disappearances, shipwrecks, and lingering spirits, the novel expertly straddles two timelines—1850s and present-day—to tell a tale as haunting as the sea itself.

The story follows Zarya, a concierge at the historic Irving Hotel, who becomes entangled in a series of eerie events that link back to the tragic story of Josephine Byrne, a 19th-century woman whose love affair, mental anguish, and suicide cast a long shadow over the town. When modern-day women begin vanishing under similar circumstances, Zarya must uncover the dark legacy left behind—one connected to mythic sirens, sunken ships, and generational secrets.

What sets this book apart is its rich, evocative atmosphere. Yudin conjures foggy coves, crumbling lighthouses, and salt-bitten ghosts with the kind of vivid detail that lingers in your mind like brine in the air. Her depiction of grief, longing, and the desire for connection—across time and beyond death—adds layers of emotional complexity to what could have easily been a simple supernatural thriller.

As the threads between Zarya’s present and Josephine’s past tighten, the novel builds tension with finesse. It’s not just about what happened, but what it means. The sirens themselves are not one-note monsters, but spectral figures full of sadness and rage, blurring the line between victim and villain. This nuanced approach makes A Song at Dead Man’s Cove a standout in the genre.

The climax is both cinematic and intimate, offering moments of genuine horror as well as deep introspection. Themes of love, betrayal, womanhood, and the price of silence echo throughout, making the story feel as ancient and universal as the ocean itself.

If you love books with dual timelines, mythological influence, ghostly lore, and women reclaiming their power through untold stories, this book should absolutely be on your list.

Summary:

A Song at Dead Man’s Cove is a mesmerizing, multilayered ghost story that manages to be both otherworldly and deeply human. Ana Yudin delivers a narrative that is as much about ancestral trauma and unspoken truths as it is about sirens and shipwrecks. It’s a tale of women silenced by history—singing now through salt and shadow to be heard.

Highly recommended for fans of Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Erin Morgenstern, and readers who crave gothic atmosphere with a feminist edge. Happy reading!

Check out A Song at Dead Man’s Cove here!