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Shred Sisters by Betsy Lerner
emotional
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.25
What makes Shred Sisters stand out is how real it feels. It doesn’t sugarcoat the struggles of mental illness, nor does it turn therapy and medication into magical fixes. Instead, it shows the daily effort it takes to manage mental health and how it affects not just the individual but everyone around them. The novel emphasizes that seeking help—whether through therapy, medication, or simply leaning on others—isn’t a failure. It’s a brave and necessary choice.
The book is a relatively quick read, but it’s packed with emotion and insight. If you enjoy stories that give you a glimpse into family dynamics, personal growth, and the ups and downs of life, Shred Sisters is worth picking up. It’s a reminder that healing is a journey, not a destination—and that sometimes, the best way to keep going is to have people by your side, whether on a mountain bike trail or in everyday life.
The book is a relatively quick read, but it’s packed with emotion and insight. If you enjoy stories that give you a glimpse into family dynamics, personal growth, and the ups and downs of life, Shred Sisters is worth picking up. It’s a reminder that healing is a journey, not a destination—and that sometimes, the best way to keep going is to have people by your side, whether on a mountain bike trail or in everyday life.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Drug abuse, Drug use, Emotional abuse, Infidelity, Mental illness
Moderate: Cancer, Confinement, Death of parent
Pretty Girls by Karin Slaughter
Pretty Girls was my first book by Karin Slaughter. This novel is not for the faint of heart. I’ve read plenty of thrillers and dark stories, but nothing quite prepared me for how brutal and unsettling Pretty Girls would be. However, the darkness in this serves a purpose. The graphic and gruesome scenes are necessary to fully grasp the horror of what happened and to understand the depth of trauma the characters are experiencing.
One of the strongest aspects of Pretty Girls is the way it weaves together mystery, psychological suspense, and deeply emotional themes. This isn’t just a story about a missing girl—it’s about grief, the aftermath of trauma, and how people cope with unimaginable loss. Slaughter does an incredible job of portraying the fractured relationships between the characters, particularly between Claire and Lydia, who have spent years apart due to misunderstandings and pain. Their reunion is messy and emotional, but it’s also one of the most powerful parts of the book.
While you might have a suspicion early on about certain revelations, Slaughter keeps the suspense high with shocking turns that make you question everything. Just when you think you have things figured out, another layer of horror is revealed.
What makes this book even more disturbing is how realistic it feels. The evil in Pretty Girls is not some far-fetched, fictionalized villainy—it reflects the kind of depravity that, unfortunately, exists in the real world. Slaughter forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths about human nature, power, and the terrifying reality of what some people are capable of.
Pretty Girls is an intense, disturbing, and emotionally gripping thriller. It’s a book that will keep you hooked, even as it unsettles you. If you’re sensitive to graphic violence, this may not be the right read for you. But if you can handle dark and gritty crime fiction, this novel is a masterclass in suspense and psychological depth. It’s not just about solving a mystery—it’s about survival, sisterhood, and facing the monsters that lurk in the shadows, both real and metaphorical.
dark
mysterious
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
4.5
Pretty Girls follows Claire and Lydia, two estranged sisters who have lived very different lives. Claire is married to a wealthy, successful man, while Lydia is a single mother struggling to make ends meet. But they share a tragic past—their sister, Julia, vanished without a trace over 20 years ago, leaving a hole in their family that was never filled. When a shocking crime forces Claire and Lydia back into each other’s lives, they begin to uncover horrifying secrets—ones that may be tied to Julia’s disappearance. As they dig deeper, they realize that the evil they’re facing is far worse than they ever imagined.
People did not change their basic, core personalities. Their values tended to stay the same. Their personal demeanors. Their world outlook and political beliefs. One need only go to a high school reunion to verify the theory.
Pretty Girls was my first book by Karin Slaughter. This novel is not for the faint of heart. I’ve read plenty of thrillers and dark stories, but nothing quite prepared me for how brutal and unsettling Pretty Girls would be. However, the darkness in this serves a purpose. The graphic and gruesome scenes are necessary to fully grasp the horror of what happened and to understand the depth of trauma the characters are experiencing.
One of the strongest aspects of Pretty Girls is the way it weaves together mystery, psychological suspense, and deeply emotional themes. This isn’t just a story about a missing girl—it’s about grief, the aftermath of trauma, and how people cope with unimaginable loss. Slaughter does an incredible job of portraying the fractured relationships between the characters, particularly between Claire and Lydia, who have spent years apart due to misunderstandings and pain. Their reunion is messy and emotional, but it’s also one of the most powerful parts of the book.
The world stops for you when you’re pretty. That’s why women spend billions on crap for their faces. Their whole life, they’re the center of attention. People want to be around them just because they’re attractive. Their jokes are funnier. Their lives are better. And then suddenly, they get bags under their eyes or they put on a little weight and no one cares about them anymore. They cease to exist.
While you might have a suspicion early on about certain revelations, Slaughter keeps the suspense high with shocking turns that make you question everything. Just when you think you have things figured out, another layer of horror is revealed.
What makes this book even more disturbing is how realistic it feels. The evil in Pretty Girls is not some far-fetched, fictionalized villainy—it reflects the kind of depravity that, unfortunately, exists in the real world. Slaughter forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths about human nature, power, and the terrifying reality of what some people are capable of.
There is kindness in so many unexpected places.
Pretty Girls is an intense, disturbing, and emotionally gripping thriller. It’s a book that will keep you hooked, even as it unsettles you. If you’re sensitive to graphic violence, this may not be the right read for you. But if you can handle dark and gritty crime fiction, this novel is a masterclass in suspense and psychological depth. It’s not just about solving a mystery—it’s about survival, sisterhood, and facing the monsters that lurk in the shadows, both real and metaphorical.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death, Drug abuse, Drug use, Gore, Physical abuse, Rape, Sexual assault, Suicide, Torture, Violence, Blood, Vomit, Kidnapping, Grief, Death of parent, Murder, Fire/Fire injury, Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Infidelity, Dementia, Car accident
Minor: Animal death, Cannibalism
Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman
Eleanor Oliphant lives a simple, structured life. She goes to work, eats the same meals, avoids socializing, and spends her weekends alone with vodka. To most people, she seems cold and awkward—but underneath her rigid routine is someone who has survived deep emotional wounds. When she unexpectedly befriends Raymond, a kind but unassuming IT guy, her world slowly starts to change. Through this friendship, long-buried memories begin to surface, forcing Eleanor to confront the painful past she’s spent years avoiding.
One of the most striking things about this novel is how honestly it portrays trauma. Eleanor isn’t just “quirky” or “socially awkward”—she is someone who has been through unimaginable pain, and her isolation is a survival mechanism. The book doesn’t sugarcoat her struggles, nor does it offer easy solutions. Instead, it shows how trauma seeps into everyday life, shaping how we think, interact, and protect ourselves from further hurt.
This is also a story about the power of human connection. Eleanor’s healing doesn’t happen overnight, and she doesn’t suddenly become a different person. But through therapy, and by allowing herself to trust and accept kindness from others, she starts to believe she is worthy of love and happiness. The book beautifully highlights how crucial it is to seek help—whether through therapy, supportive friendships, or just allowing yourself to be seen.
Eleanor’s journey is ultimately about survival—not just in the sense of getting through the worst moments, but in learning how to truly live beyond them. Trauma can feel like it defines you, but this book reminds us that healing, while messy and painful, is possible.
For parents, this book also serves as an important reminder: childhood trauma doesn’t just disappear. It shapes a person’s ability to trust, love, and feel like they deserve good things. Seeking help—whether for yourself or your child—isn’t a weakness. It’s a step toward real healing.
While Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine is emotionally heavy at times, it’s also deeply moving. It reminds us that no one is beyond saving, that kindness can make a world of difference, and that asking for help is not just important—it’s necessary. Eleanor’s journey isn’t easy, but it’s real.
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
If someone asks you how you are, you are meant to say FINE. You are not meant to say that you cried yourself to sleep last night because you hadn't spoken to another person for two consecutive days. FINE is what you say.
Eleanor Oliphant lives a simple, structured life. She goes to work, eats the same meals, avoids socializing, and spends her weekends alone with vodka. To most people, she seems cold and awkward—but underneath her rigid routine is someone who has survived deep emotional wounds. When she unexpectedly befriends Raymond, a kind but unassuming IT guy, her world slowly starts to change. Through this friendship, long-buried memories begin to surface, forcing Eleanor to confront the painful past she’s spent years avoiding.
I suppose one of the reasons why we're all able to continue to exist for our alloted span in this green and blue vale of tears is that there is always, however remote it might seem, the possibility of change.
One of the most striking things about this novel is how honestly it portrays trauma. Eleanor isn’t just “quirky” or “socially awkward”—she is someone who has been through unimaginable pain, and her isolation is a survival mechanism. The book doesn’t sugarcoat her struggles, nor does it offer easy solutions. Instead, it shows how trauma seeps into everyday life, shaping how we think, interact, and protect ourselves from further hurt.
This is also a story about the power of human connection. Eleanor’s healing doesn’t happen overnight, and she doesn’t suddenly become a different person. But through therapy, and by allowing herself to trust and accept kindness from others, she starts to believe she is worthy of love and happiness. The book beautifully highlights how crucial it is to seek help—whether through therapy, supportive friendships, or just allowing yourself to be seen.
Eleanor’s journey is ultimately about survival—not just in the sense of getting through the worst moments, but in learning how to truly live beyond them. Trauma can feel like it defines you, but this book reminds us that healing, while messy and painful, is possible.
...when you took a moment to see what was around you, noticed all the little things, it made you feel... lighter.
For parents, this book also serves as an important reminder: childhood trauma doesn’t just disappear. It shapes a person’s ability to trust, love, and feel like they deserve good things. Seeking help—whether for yourself or your child—isn’t a weakness. It’s a step toward real healing.
In the end, what matters is this: I survived.
While Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine is emotionally heavy at times, it’s also deeply moving. It reminds us that no one is beyond saving, that kindness can make a world of difference, and that asking for help is not just important—it’s necessary. Eleanor’s journey isn’t easy, but it’s real.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child abuse, Child death, Death, Emotional abuse, Mental illness, Physical abuse, Vomit, Stalking, Death of parent, Fire/Fire injury, Alcohol
Moderate: Suicidal thoughts
Minor: Cancer
Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult
Set in a small town, Nineteen Minutes explores the lives of students, parents, and teachers before and after a tragic event shakes the community to its core. The story is told through multiple perspectives, allowing readers to understand the emotions, histories, and struggles of each character. Through these viewpoints, Picoult delves into themes of bullying, social pressures, mental health, and the often unseen consequences of small, everyday actions. The novel raises important questions about justice, responsibility, and whether we ever truly know what someone else is going through.
What happened in Nineteen Minutes is devastating, but it is not without cause. It is the result of wounds inflicted over years—some obvious, some invisible. Bullying is not just a single act; it is a pattern that leaves deep emotional scars. The pain of being humiliated, excluded, and tormented does not fade when the school day ends. For some, it becomes a constant, inescapable reality. And the saddest part? Many people don’t recognize the damage they are doing until it is too late.
This book is a reminder that every action, no matter how small, can change the course of someone’s life. A cruel word, a dismissive laugh, an act of indifference—these things accumulate, shaping how a person sees themselves and the world. But the same is true for kindness. A moment of understanding, a gesture of inclusion, a voice speaking up—these, too, can leave a lasting impact.
Picoult does not ask us to excuse or justify what happens in this book. Instead, she challenges us to look deeper, to understand the complexity of human actions, and to recognize the role society plays in shaping them. Nineteen Minutes is not an easy read, but it is an important one. It forces us to ask: How often do we dismiss someone’s pain? How often do we fail to act when we see injustice? And most importantly, what can we do to ensure that no one feels so unseen, unheard, or broken that they believe there is no way out?
This book is heartbreaking, but it also carries a crucial message: We all have the power to affect someone's life. The question is, will we use that power to hurt or to heal?
dark
emotional
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
Jodi Picoult has a gift for writing stories that force us to confront uncomfortable truths. Her books do not offer simple answers because life itself is not simple. Nineteen Minutes is one of her most thought-provoking novels, forcing readers to examine the ripple effects of cruelty, isolation, and pain—especially in the lives of young people.
You couldn’t argue the facts; you could only change the lens through which you looked at them.
Set in a small town, Nineteen Minutes explores the lives of students, parents, and teachers before and after a tragic event shakes the community to its core. The story is told through multiple perspectives, allowing readers to understand the emotions, histories, and struggles of each character. Through these viewpoints, Picoult delves into themes of bullying, social pressures, mental health, and the often unseen consequences of small, everyday actions. The novel raises important questions about justice, responsibility, and whether we ever truly know what someone else is going through.
What happened in Nineteen Minutes is devastating, but it is not without cause. It is the result of wounds inflicted over years—some obvious, some invisible. Bullying is not just a single act; it is a pattern that leaves deep emotional scars. The pain of being humiliated, excluded, and tormented does not fade when the school day ends. For some, it becomes a constant, inescapable reality. And the saddest part? Many people don’t recognize the damage they are doing until it is too late.
Taking credit for what a child did well also meant accepting responsibility for what they did wrong.
This book is a reminder that every action, no matter how small, can change the course of someone’s life. A cruel word, a dismissive laugh, an act of indifference—these things accumulate, shaping how a person sees themselves and the world. But the same is true for kindness. A moment of understanding, a gesture of inclusion, a voice speaking up—these, too, can leave a lasting impact.
Jail wasn’t all that different from public school, really. The correctional officers were just like the teachers—their job was to keep everyone in place, to feed them, and to make sure nobody got seriously hurt. Beyond that, you were left to your own devices. And like school, jail was an artificial society, with its own hierarchy and rules. If you did any work, it was pointless—cleaning the toilets every morning or pushing a library cart around minimum security wasn’t really that different from writing an essay on the definition of civitas or memorizing prime numbers—you weren’t going to be using them daily in your real life. And as with high school, the only way to get through jail was to stick it out and do your time.
Picoult does not ask us to excuse or justify what happens in this book. Instead, she challenges us to look deeper, to understand the complexity of human actions, and to recognize the role society plays in shaping them. Nineteen Minutes is not an easy read, but it is an important one. It forces us to ask: How often do we dismiss someone’s pain? How often do we fail to act when we see injustice? And most importantly, what can we do to ensure that no one feels so unseen, unheard, or broken that they believe there is no way out?
Nobody wants to admit to this, but bad things will keep on happening. Maybe that’s because it’s all a chain, and a long time ago someone did the first bad thing, and that led someone else to do another bad thing, and so on. You know, like that game where you whisper a sentence into someone’s ear, and that person whispers it to someone else, and it all comes out wrong in the end. But then again, maybe bad things happen because it’s the only way we can keep remembering what good is supposed to look like.
This book is heartbreaking, but it also carries a crucial message: We all have the power to affect someone's life. The question is, will we use that power to hurt or to heal?
Isn’t it amazing how, when you strip away everything, people are so much alike?
Content Warnings
Graphic: Bullying, Death, Gun violence, Violence, Blood, Mass/school shootings, Murder, Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Cursing, Emotional abuse, Homophobia, Miscarriage, Physical abuse, Suicidal thoughts, Grief, Abortion
Minor: Rape, Car accident, Pregnancy
Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng
Reading Little Fires Everywhere made me realize how easy it is to judge people based on the limited version of their lives we perceive. We see their actions, their carefully curated facades, but we rarely see the quiet struggles, the sacrifices, the deeply personal histories that shape their choices. The book made me reflect on how people—both in fiction and reality—often wear masks, not necessarily to deceive, but to survive in a world that demands certain expectations from them.
Despite their flaws, I found myself empathizing with each character because I understood them. Little Fires Everywhere doesn’t tell you who to root for or who is right or wrong; instead, it presents people as they are—complicated, messy, and deeply human. And that is precisely what makes it so compelling.
Ultimately, this book reaffirmed why I love reading: it allows us to step into the lives of others, to develop empathy, and to recognize that no one’s story is ever as simple as it seems.
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
How well do we truly know the people around us? Little Fires Everywhere is a novel that challenges this question, reminding us that we often see only fragments of others’ lives—glimpses shaped by our own assumptions, biases, and limited understanding. Through a cast of deeply complex characters, Celeste Ng masterfully unravels the hidden struggles, secrets, and past experiences that shape each person's choices.
Set in the meticulously planned suburban community of Shaker Heights, Little Fires Everywhere follows the intertwined lives of two families: the wealthy, picture-perfect Richardsons and the enigmatic Mia Warren, a single mother and artist, who moves into their rental property with her teenage daughter, Pearl. When the McCulloughs—a well-respected white couple—attempt to adopt a Chinese-American baby, the town becomes divided, and loyalties are tested. Meanwhile, secrets from Mia’s past begin to unravel, forcing both families to confront uncomfortable truths. With its exploration of privilege, motherhood, identity, and moral ambiguity, Little Fires Everywhere is a thought-provoking story that questions whether we can ever truly understand someone else's life.
This book is not about a grand, sweeping plot; instead, it immerses us in a pivotal moment in its characters’ lives, revealing who they are by peeling back layers of their pasts. Ng masterfully uses flashbacks to give us insight into why each character acts the way they do—reminding us that every decision comes from a history we may not see at first glance.
Set in the meticulously planned suburban community of Shaker Heights, Little Fires Everywhere follows the intertwined lives of two families: the wealthy, picture-perfect Richardsons and the enigmatic Mia Warren, a single mother and artist, who moves into their rental property with her teenage daughter, Pearl. When the McCulloughs—a well-respected white couple—attempt to adopt a Chinese-American baby, the town becomes divided, and loyalties are tested. Meanwhile, secrets from Mia’s past begin to unravel, forcing both families to confront uncomfortable truths. With its exploration of privilege, motherhood, identity, and moral ambiguity, Little Fires Everywhere is a thought-provoking story that questions whether we can ever truly understand someone else's life.
This book is not about a grand, sweeping plot; instead, it immerses us in a pivotal moment in its characters’ lives, revealing who they are by peeling back layers of their pasts. Ng masterfully uses flashbacks to give us insight into why each character acts the way they do—reminding us that every decision comes from a history we may not see at first glance.
But the problem with rules, he reflected, was that they implied a right way and a wrong way to do things. When, in fact, most of the time there were simply ways, none of them quite wrong or quite right, and nothing to tell you for sure which side of the line you stood on.
Reading Little Fires Everywhere made me realize how easy it is to judge people based on the limited version of their lives we perceive. We see their actions, their carefully curated facades, but we rarely see the quiet struggles, the sacrifices, the deeply personal histories that shape their choices. The book made me reflect on how people—both in fiction and reality—often wear masks, not necessarily to deceive, but to survive in a world that demands certain expectations from them.
Despite their flaws, I found myself empathizing with each character because I understood them. Little Fires Everywhere doesn’t tell you who to root for or who is right or wrong; instead, it presents people as they are—complicated, messy, and deeply human. And that is precisely what makes it so compelling.
Ultimately, this book reaffirmed why I love reading: it allows us to step into the lives of others, to develop empathy, and to recognize that no one’s story is ever as simple as it seems.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Infertility, Abortion, Fire/Fire injury, Abandonment
Moderate: Miscarriage
Minor: Vomit
The Measure by Nikki Erlick
At its core, The Measure reminds us that life isn’t defined by its length but by its depth. We often hear this sentiment, but in the rush of daily life, it’s easy to forget. This book serves as a powerful reminder that what truly matters is how we choose to spend our time, love the people around us, and shape our own stories.
A beautifully written and moving novel, The Measure isn’t just about fate—it’s about resilience, human connection, and the courage to live fully, regardless of what the future holds.
Content warnings: grief, murder, death (moderate), mass/school shootings (moderate), terminal illness (minor), war (minor)
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
Summary:
One morning, every adult across the world receives an identical small wooden box, each containing a string of varying length. Soon, the world discovers a profound truth—the length of the string corresponds to the length of one's life. As people grapple with this revelation, society divides into "long-stringers" and "short-stringers," leading to shifts in relationships, careers, government policies, and even love. The novel follows a cast of interconnected characters—each facing the decision of whether to open their box and what to do with the knowledge it holds. Ultimately, The Measure explores fate, free will, and the ways we define the meaning of a life well lived.
Review:
I have always been drawn to character-driven books, especially those that challenge the way we think about life and mortality. The Measure is one of those rare novels that does both, offering a deeply emotional yet thought-provoking reading experience.
What makes this book so impactful is its ability to reflect the anxieties, hopes, and ethical dilemmas we all face. It forces us to ask: If you knew how much time you had left, would you live differently? Would society treat you differently? The way Nikki Erlick weaves together multiple perspectives—each grappling with their own choices—adds a layer of realism and complexity that lingers long after the last page.
One morning, every adult across the world receives an identical small wooden box, each containing a string of varying length. Soon, the world discovers a profound truth—the length of the string corresponds to the length of one's life. As people grapple with this revelation, society divides into "long-stringers" and "short-stringers," leading to shifts in relationships, careers, government policies, and even love. The novel follows a cast of interconnected characters—each facing the decision of whether to open their box and what to do with the knowledge it holds. Ultimately, The Measure explores fate, free will, and the ways we define the meaning of a life well lived.
Review:
I have always been drawn to character-driven books, especially those that challenge the way we think about life and mortality. The Measure is one of those rare novels that does both, offering a deeply emotional yet thought-provoking reading experience.
What makes this book so impactful is its ability to reflect the anxieties, hopes, and ethical dilemmas we all face. It forces us to ask: If you knew how much time you had left, would you live differently? Would society treat you differently? The way Nikki Erlick weaves together multiple perspectives—each grappling with their own choices—adds a layer of realism and complexity that lingers long after the last page.
That the beginning and the end may have been chosen for us, the string already spun, but the middle had always been left undetermined, to be woven and shaped by us.
At its core, The Measure reminds us that life isn’t defined by its length but by its depth. We often hear this sentiment, but in the rush of daily life, it’s easy to forget. This book serves as a powerful reminder that what truly matters is how we choose to spend our time, love the people around us, and shape our own stories.
A beautifully written and moving novel, The Measure isn’t just about fate—it’s about resilience, human connection, and the courage to live fully, regardless of what the future holds.
Content warnings: grief, murder, death (moderate), mass/school shootings (moderate), terminal illness (minor), war (minor)
Content Warnings
Graphic: Grief, Murder
Moderate: Death, Mass/school shootings
Minor: Terminal illness, War
Belladonna by Adalyn Grace
The book’s pacing was its biggest drawback for me. It took me almost four months to finish Belladonna, which speaks volumes about how slow it felt. The plot itself was intriguing, but the execution dragged—this story could have easily been 100 pages shorter. Additionally, the mystery aspect fell flat since many of the twists were predictable well before they were revealed. It was frustrating to watch Signa take so long to piece things together when the clues were glaringly obvious.
That said, Adalyn Grace’s prose was strong, and the gothic atmosphere of Thorn Grove was beautifully crafted. The writing itself was immersive, even when the pacing faltered. I’m still interested in continuing the series, but I sincerely hope Foxglove improves upon the character development, plot, and pacing issues that held Belladonna back.
mysterious
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
Belladonna follows 19-year-old Signa Farrow, a girl who has been surrounded by death her entire life. Orphaned as an infant, she has lived with various guardians—most of whom meet untimely ends. When she is sent to Thorn Grove, the gothic estate of the Hawthorne family, she finds herself entangled in a mystery: her cousin Blythe is gravely ill, and Signa suspects poison. To uncover the truth, she must form an uneasy alliance with Death himself—an alluring, enigmatic figure who has been a shadowy presence in her life for as long as she can remember. As their connection deepens, Signa begins to question the true nature of life, death, and her own powers.
To me, you are a song to a soul that has never known music. Light to someone who has only seen the darkness. You bring out the absolute worst in me, and I become vindictive toward those who treat you in ways I don't care for. Yet you also bring out the best in me - I want to be better because of you. Better for you.
The book’s pacing was its biggest drawback for me. It took me almost four months to finish Belladonna, which speaks volumes about how slow it felt. The plot itself was intriguing, but the execution dragged—this story could have easily been 100 pages shorter. Additionally, the mystery aspect fell flat since many of the twists were predictable well before they were revealed. It was frustrating to watch Signa take so long to piece things together when the clues were glaringly obvious.
That said, Adalyn Grace’s prose was strong, and the gothic atmosphere of Thorn Grove was beautifully crafted. The writing itself was immersive, even when the pacing faltered. I’m still interested in continuing the series, but I sincerely hope Foxglove improves upon the character development, plot, and pacing issues that held Belladonna back.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death, Grief, Death of parent, Murder
Moderate: Vomit
Minor: Alcohol
I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy
In this memoir, Jennette McCardy shares her painful journey growing up with an emotionally abusive, controlling mother who pushed her into acting, monitored every aspect of her life, and instilled deep-seated guilt and fear in her. She writes about the impact of this abuse on her mental health, including struggles with eating disorders, unhealthy relationships, and the long road to reclaiming her identity after her mother’s death.
I admit: this book triggered a lot for me. Jennette’s mom was like mine when it came to emotional abuse - the manipulation, the guilt, the control. But I’m at a point now where I’m allowing myself to feel everything, knowing that’s the only way to heal. I read this book at the right time.
When I was almost done, I went on Reddit to see what others thought, and it broke my heart how many people related to Jennette’s story - just like I did. But at the same time, it was oddly comforting to know that I’m not alone.
I admire Jennette for her courage to share her truth. In a twisted way, it was refreshing to see my experiences reflected in someone else’s story. Jennette, you’re not alone either. And as my therapist has reminded me over and over: YOU ARE NOW SAFE.
dark
emotional
sad
fast-paced
5.0
I’ve been wanting to read I’m Glad My Mom Died since it was released, but I didn’t have the courage to. At that point, I hadn’t been to therapy yet, and I was still avoiding confronting my traumatic experiences head-on. One therapy session later, I finally gave in and listened to the audiobook.
In this memoir, Jennette McCardy shares her painful journey growing up with an emotionally abusive, controlling mother who pushed her into acting, monitored every aspect of her life, and instilled deep-seated guilt and fear in her. She writes about the impact of this abuse on her mental health, including struggles with eating disorders, unhealthy relationships, and the long road to reclaiming her identity after her mother’s death.
I admit: this book triggered a lot for me. Jennette’s mom was like mine when it came to emotional abuse - the manipulation, the guilt, the control. But I’m at a point now where I’m allowing myself to feel everything, knowing that’s the only way to heal. I read this book at the right time.
When I was almost done, I went on Reddit to see what others thought, and it broke my heart how many people related to Jennette’s story - just like I did. But at the same time, it was oddly comforting to know that I’m not alone.
I admire Jennette for her courage to share her truth. In a twisted way, it was refreshing to see my experiences reflected in someone else’s story. Jennette, you’re not alone either. And as my therapist has reminded me over and over: YOU ARE NOW SAFE.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body shaming, Child abuse, Eating disorder, Emotional abuse, Mental illness, Panic attacks/disorders, Sexual assault, Terminal illness, Toxic relationship, Blood, Vomit, Death of parent
Moderate: Addiction, Alcoholism, Cursing, Drug use, Alcohol
Minor: Infidelity
The Crash by Freida McFadden
mysterious
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
As always, Freida McFadden's books make for good palate cleansers. However, Polly really irritated me, which took away much of the enjoyment. I don’t regret finishing it, but I wouldn’t have minded skipping it either. Overall, just an average read.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child abuse, Death, Infertility, Mental illness, Miscarriage, Rape, Blood, Kidnapping, Murder, Pregnancy, Fire/Fire injury, Alcohol, Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Suicide attempt
The Right Move by Liz Tomforde
One big thing that didn’t sit right with me was how dependent Indy was on other people. She even admitted it herself—she hates being alone. Whenever she was, all her insecurities took over. There was clearly some healing that needed to happen, but the book never really addressed it or emphasized the importance of being okay with solitude.Sure, she and Ryan didn’t immediately get together after she broke up with Alex, but she pretty much jumped from one guy to the next without giving herself space to process a six-year relationship. It felt like she never really took the time to learn how to love herself outside of a relationship.
Ryan, on the other hand, was your typical swoon-worthy romance hero. His acts of service were sweet, but he didn’t bring anything new to the table. He was just another cookie-cutter MMC, the same kind we see over and over in romance books.
At this point, I think The Windy City series just isn’t for me. Two books in, and neither has left a strong enough impression to make me want to continue. The Right Move followed the same predictable formula, making it pretty forgettable. Even though it was supposed to be a quick, easy read, it took me months to finish because I kept losing interest. I usually love the fake dating trope, but this one felt way too dragged out.
Honestly, there are much better sports romance books out there.
P.S. For some reason, characters popped their shoulders 18 times in this book. It drove me nuts. It felt like the author couldn’t find another way to describe a simple movement or just didn’t bother making them do anything else.
lighthearted
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.0
Life has a funny way of fulfilling you, even when it isn't in the way you assumed it to be.
One big thing that didn’t sit right with me was how dependent Indy was on other people. She even admitted it herself—she hates being alone. Whenever she was, all her insecurities took over. There was clearly some healing that needed to happen, but the book never really addressed it or emphasized the importance of being okay with solitude.
Ryan, on the other hand, was your typical swoon-worthy romance hero. His acts of service were sweet, but he didn’t bring anything new to the table. He was just another cookie-cutter MMC, the same kind we see over and over in romance books.
At this point, I think The Windy City series just isn’t for me. Two books in, and neither has left a strong enough impression to make me want to continue. The Right Move followed the same predictable formula, making it pretty forgettable. Even though it was supposed to be a quick, easy read, it took me months to finish because I kept losing interest. I usually love the fake dating trope, but this one felt way too dragged out.
Honestly, there are much better sports romance books out there.
P.S. For some reason, characters popped their shoulders 18 times in this book. It drove me nuts. It felt like the author couldn’t find another way to describe a simple movement or just didn’t bother making them do anything else.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Cursing
Moderate: Emotional abuse, Infidelity
Minor: Mental illness, Gaslighting