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wonderedpages's Reviews (184)
emotional
hopeful
lighthearted
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
If you love a Hallmark-style romance with a scenic backdrop and a swoonworthy love interest, The Cottage by Terrijo is your next summer read.
Sadie is newly divorced, forty-something, and left reeling after her Hollywood husband trades her in for a younger model. She escapes to Fish Creek, Wisconsin, aka Door County (though I wish the author picked one name and stuck with it), where she’s inherited her grandparents’ run-down lakefront cottage. With the help of some childhood friends and one very hot Irish contractor named Tadhg (seriously, where do I find a Tadhg?), she starts to rebuild more than just her home.
This book is exactly what you’d want to curl up with on a breezy afternoon: heartfelt, gentle, and filled with charming small-town vibes. Sadie’s best friend Aggie steals every scene, she’s fierce, loyal, and hilarious. I absolutely need an Aggie in my life. Tadhg, meanwhile, is basically the blueprint for the perfect man: kind, skilled, emotionally available, and he listens. Swoon.
While the romance is closed-door (just kisses!), it felt a bit rushed for my taste, maybe I’ve just grown used to a little more tension and steam before declarations of forever. Also, calling someone “freeze baby” as a pet name? I cringed every time.
The religious themes were also a bit too prominent for my preferences, and I was disappointed that Sadie handed over ownership of “her” cottage so quickly at the end. After everything she’d been through, I was hoping for a little more independence and a little less “what’s mine is ours now” energy.
But despite those few hiccups, The Cottage still warmed my heart. It’s a story about fresh starts, letting people in, and finding love later in life when you least expect it.
Thank you to Grey’s Promotions for the ARC!
Sadie is newly divorced, forty-something, and left reeling after her Hollywood husband trades her in for a younger model. She escapes to Fish Creek, Wisconsin, aka Door County (though I wish the author picked one name and stuck with it), where she’s inherited her grandparents’ run-down lakefront cottage. With the help of some childhood friends and one very hot Irish contractor named Tadhg (seriously, where do I find a Tadhg?), she starts to rebuild more than just her home.
This book is exactly what you’d want to curl up with on a breezy afternoon: heartfelt, gentle, and filled with charming small-town vibes. Sadie’s best friend Aggie steals every scene, she’s fierce, loyal, and hilarious. I absolutely need an Aggie in my life. Tadhg, meanwhile, is basically the blueprint for the perfect man: kind, skilled, emotionally available, and he listens. Swoon.
While the romance is closed-door (just kisses!), it felt a bit rushed for my taste, maybe I’ve just grown used to a little more tension and steam before declarations of forever. Also, calling someone “freeze baby” as a pet name? I cringed every time.
The religious themes were also a bit too prominent for my preferences, and I was disappointed that Sadie handed over ownership of “her” cottage so quickly at the end. After everything she’d been through, I was hoping for a little more independence and a little less “what’s mine is ours now” energy.
But despite those few hiccups, The Cottage still warmed my heart. It’s a story about fresh starts, letting people in, and finding love later in life when you least expect it.
Thank you to Grey’s Promotions for the ARC!
Content Warnings
Minor: Death, Infidelity, Misogyny, Sexism, Toxic relationship, Medical content, Grief, Stalking, Car accident, Death of parent, War
funny
mysterious
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
I won this audiobook in a giveaway from The StoryGraph, and while the premise had me hooked (a murder at a celebrity wedding on storm-trapped Catalina Island? Yes please!), the audio format made it a little too chaotic for me to follow. Between the whirlwind pace and the large cast of characters, I found myself constantly confused, especially since only one narrator was used. Multiple voice actors would have really helped here.
This is the second book in a series, and it leans heavily on context from book one. I hadn’t read it, and it showed. I couldn’t remember the main character’s name half the time, even though I liked her vibe. Her best friend Emma, a movie star, is marrying her co-star Fred Winters, and the wedding is being held right after they wrap filming When In Rome, which was based on the main character’s novel. The whole thing had A Simple Favor energy (if you’ve seen the Netflix movie with Anna Kendrick and Blake Lively, you’ll get the comparison).
A murder happens, and while our author-turned-sleuth gets to the bottom of it, the wedding is filled with near-misses, more threats, and lots of Hollywood gossip. The isolated island setting due to the storm was a nice touch for building tension, but I truly could not tell you who died or who did it. The reveal was so fast in the last chapter and epilogue, I felt like I missed half the conclusion.
All that said, the writing itself is clever and bubbly, with plenty of friendship drama, celebrity antics, and a light romance (fade-to-black). I’d read this author again, just with my eyes next time instead of my ears.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Confinement, Death, Murder
Moderate: Addiction
Minor: Mental illness, Stalking, Injury/Injury detail
dark
emotional
mysterious
sad
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I picked up Into the Water for a book club. This book is a moody, tangled web of memories, secrets, and long-buried trauma told through a chorus of distinct voices that come together like pieces of a jagged mosaic. The town of Beckford is haunted by its history of women drowning in its infamous Drowning Pool, and in this novel, the water is as much a character as any of the townsfolk.
At first, I felt overwhelmed by the number of POVs, but thankfully the book includes a cast list, which became my lifeline during the first half. Once I got a feel for each voice, it was easier to follow the shifting narratives, and I began to appreciate how masterfully Paula Hawkins gave each character their own pain, flaws, and motives.
This story centers on Nel Abbott’s suspicious death and the many ripples it creates: her estranged sister Jules returns to Beckford, grappling with childhood trauma and unresolved resentment; her teenage daughter Lena lashes out in grief and confusion; and Detective Sean Townsend, whose family is deeply entangled in Beckford’s dark legacy, begins to unravel under the weight of secrets he’s kept buried since childhood.
Hawkins does a great job building tension through unreliable memories and the collective denial of a community used to looking the other way. I appreciated how the theme of generational trauma was woven into the mystery, especially through Sean’s fragmented recollection of his mother’s death and Jules’ reckoning with the assault that drove a wedge between her and Nel. I found myself heartbroken by how many women in this story were silenced, written off, or outright forgotten.
The mystery wrapped up neatly, but not with a satisfying bow. There is no justice for Nel, no published book to bring light to the women lost to the Drowning Pool. Instead, there’s a haunting sense that while the truth has come to the surface, Beckford will always be a place where the water keeps its secrets close. That said, the character arcs, especially Jules’ slow thaw toward Lena, offered enough emotional resolution to keep this from feeling hopeless.
This is a broody, atmospheric mystery best read with patience and a pen for notes. Not a happy ending kind of book, but a satisfying one.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Adult/minor relationship, Body shaming, Bullying, Child abuse, Child death, Death, Domestic abuse, Emotional abuse, Fatphobia, Infidelity, Pedophilia, Physical abuse, Rape, Sexism, Sexual assault, Sexual violence, Suicide, Violence, Grief, Death of parent, Murder, Gaslighting, Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Animal cruelty, Animal death, Mental illness, Misogyny, Kidnapping
Minor: Cursing, Blood, Abandonment
emotional
hopeful
lighthearted
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I picked this up for a book club, and it fits the vibe perfectly: sentimental, a little predictable, and just bookish enough to keep me turning the pages.
The Book Swap had some standout elements I genuinely appreciated. The themes of grief, forgiveness, and second chances were thoughtfully woven through both main characters’ arcs. Bonnie, Erin’s deceased best friend, may be gone, but her presence echoes throughout the story. Erin literally uses “what would Bonnie do?” to guide her major life decisions, including quitting a toxic job and learning to show up better for the people in her life. James, Erin’s estranged childhood friend, returns to her orbit via a Little Free Library in their London neighborhood. And I mean, come on, that setup is a romcom dream.
The anonymous book annotations between James and Erin were a sweet (albeit slow) way to rekindle a connection. As someone who has seen You’ve Got Mail and read The Reading List, I found the concept cozy and familiar. I also enjoyed the classic literary references throughout like Great Expectations, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Bell Jar gives the novel a strong backbone for bibliophiles.
But… Erin. Oof. She was hard to root for. Her selfishness and inability to listen made the miscommunication trope so much more grating than it needed to be. James, who is dealing with a bipolar mother, burnout, and a passion for writing, felt far more grounded and emotionally accessible. Meanwhile, Erin consistently ran from conflict and never let James explain, dragging out the “mystery” far too long.
Still, the story ties up neatly in a standalone package (thankfully no cliffhanger or drawn-out series), which was refreshing after a string of duologies and trilogies. If you’re okay with a slow burn, little-to-no spice, and a lead character who might drive you a little nuts, this is a comforting, rainy afternoon kind of read.
The Book Swap had some standout elements I genuinely appreciated. The themes of grief, forgiveness, and second chances were thoughtfully woven through both main characters’ arcs. Bonnie, Erin’s deceased best friend, may be gone, but her presence echoes throughout the story. Erin literally uses “what would Bonnie do?” to guide her major life decisions, including quitting a toxic job and learning to show up better for the people in her life. James, Erin’s estranged childhood friend, returns to her orbit via a Little Free Library in their London neighborhood. And I mean, come on, that setup is a romcom dream.
The anonymous book annotations between James and Erin were a sweet (albeit slow) way to rekindle a connection. As someone who has seen You’ve Got Mail and read The Reading List, I found the concept cozy and familiar. I also enjoyed the classic literary references throughout like Great Expectations, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Bell Jar gives the novel a strong backbone for bibliophiles.
But… Erin. Oof. She was hard to root for. Her selfishness and inability to listen made the miscommunication trope so much more grating than it needed to be. James, who is dealing with a bipolar mother, burnout, and a passion for writing, felt far more grounded and emotionally accessible. Meanwhile, Erin consistently ran from conflict and never let James explain, dragging out the “mystery” far too long.
Still, the story ties up neatly in a standalone package (thankfully no cliffhanger or drawn-out series), which was refreshing after a string of duologies and trilogies. If you’re okay with a slow burn, little-to-no spice, and a lead character who might drive you a little nuts, this is a comforting, rainy afternoon kind of read.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Bullying, Cancer, Child death, Chronic illness, Death, Mental illness, Suicide, Grief, Abandonment
Minor: Miscarriage, Vomit, Pregnancy, Injury/Injury detail
adventurous
dark
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Shield of Sparrows is a slow-burn romantasy full of monsters, mystery, and men who refuse to answer basic questions. And I devoured it.
Odessa begins as an undertrained, unchosen princess thrown into a political marriage because of an outdated magical treaty. She’s woefully unprepared to play secret spy, and yet that’s exactly the mission she’s tasked with. I spent half the book yelling “GIRL, THEY KNOW,”
At first, it’s frustrating how in the dark she is about her role, her past, the politics, and even her new homeland. As the pages turn, it becomes clear that everyone is hiding something from her. The suspense is layered so well that I found myself flying through chapters just to uncover each new secret.
The plot is dense (and the book is loooong at 666 pages), with many of the answers and action saved for the final chapters. The first half is heavy on travel, worldbuilding, and suspicion. But the back half? Absolute chaos in the best way. Magic, identity reveals, science experiments gone wrong, betrayals, and secret siblings. I was never bored, and even though many of the twists were easy to predict, that only made them more fun to watch unfold.
Now let’s talk romance. Ransom, aka the Guardian, is the best kind of book boyfriend. Ransom is a mysterious, silver-eyed, weapon-slinging dreamboat who trains Odessa with a sword and flirts like it’s his job. Ransom is part of a failed super-soldier experiment involving a bitey bariwolf and potion-enhanced blood. The chemistry with Odessa was deliciously tense, but I would’ve loved more heat once the slow burn finally ignited. His line about praise belonging in the bedroom? Chef’s kiss.
Romance-wise? It’s sloooow. Like, page-553 slow. And for a 666-page book, that’s borderline cruel. When we finally got spice, it was brief and too polite. Give me something I shouldn’t be reading at work, please and thank you.
Romance-wise? It’s sloooow. Like, page-553 slow. And for a 666-page book, that’s borderline cruel. When we finally got spice, it was brief and too polite. Give me something I shouldn’t be reading at work, please and thank you.
This book is a tangled web of secret identities, backstabbing, alchemy, book burnings (automatic villain behavior), and monsters infected by a science experiment. Monsters get stronger. People get weird. Some die. And Odessa is somehow the key to everything because… well, her mom is a mystery, her relentless questions reveal the truth, and monsters seem to really want a piece of her (maybe it’s the necklace).
I figured out most of the big reveals early, but weirdly, that made it more satisfying? Like watching the drama unfold exactly as I hoped. That said, all the action (and plot clarity) is jammed into the final pages, so buckle in.
If I had one major gripe: I need badass Odessa to show up earlier in Book 2. She’s on her way, I can feel it. Give her a better sword, a full map of Turan, and answers, and let her wreak some havoc.
Final thoughts: The pacing could use a trim, the romance needs more teeth, and I swear if the sequel makes me wait another 500+ pages for Odessa and Ransom to finally go feral, I will riot. Lovingly.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child death, Death, Terminal illness, Violence, Blood, Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Vomit, Grief, Toxic friendship, War
Minor: Infidelity, Sexual content, Fire/Fire injury
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
The Personal Librarian by Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray is the kind of historical fiction that lingers long after you turn the final page. I was captivated by Belle da Costa Greene, not just as a character, but as a woman who lived and shaped history from behind the veil of secrecy she was forced to maintain.
Belle’s voice was powerful and deeply human. I felt the weight of her choices, especially in a world built to exclude women like her: Black, ambitious, brilliant, and female. The authors did a phenomenal job conveying how every decision Belle made was layered with sacrifice: her identity, her family, her body, her love. The abortion scene was handled with sensitivity and heartbreak, and it made perfect sense for a woman so fiercely protective of the life she’d built. Her turbulent relationship with Bernard felt maddeningly real, and I was both frustrated by his betrayals and proud when Belle finally chose herself.
The professional side of her life was just as fascinating. Working under J.P. Morgan offered a glimpse into the demanding, high-stakes world of art and rare books. I never thought illuminated manuscripts and auction strategies would rivet me so much! The respect shown to her by Jack Morgan felt like a small but meaningful win, a reminder that her brilliance was undeniable even to those born into privilege.
I only wish the cover had featured her real image. After finishing the book, I immediately went to look up photos of Belle, eager to connect more deeply with the woman I’d just read about. It’s heartbreaking that she chose to destroy her letters. As a librarian, she surely understood the value of primary sources, but as a woman who had to pass as white to survive, I understand her need to protect herself. Still, it’s a tragic loss for history.
This book left me wanting more. I’d read companion novels about her mother, father, siblings, and anyone in Belle’s orbit. Her story was that compelling.
Belle’s voice was powerful and deeply human. I felt the weight of her choices, especially in a world built to exclude women like her: Black, ambitious, brilliant, and female. The authors did a phenomenal job conveying how every decision Belle made was layered with sacrifice: her identity, her family, her body, her love. The abortion scene was handled with sensitivity and heartbreak, and it made perfect sense for a woman so fiercely protective of the life she’d built. Her turbulent relationship with Bernard felt maddeningly real, and I was both frustrated by his betrayals and proud when Belle finally chose herself.
The professional side of her life was just as fascinating. Working under J.P. Morgan offered a glimpse into the demanding, high-stakes world of art and rare books. I never thought illuminated manuscripts and auction strategies would rivet me so much! The respect shown to her by Jack Morgan felt like a small but meaningful win, a reminder that her brilliance was undeniable even to those born into privilege.
I only wish the cover had featured her real image. After finishing the book, I immediately went to look up photos of Belle, eager to connect more deeply with the woman I’d just read about. It’s heartbreaking that she chose to destroy her letters. As a librarian, she surely understood the value of primary sources, but as a woman who had to pass as white to survive, I understand her need to protect herself. Still, it’s a tragic loss for history.
This book left me wanting more. I’d read companion novels about her mother, father, siblings, and anyone in Belle’s orbit. Her story was that compelling.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Misogyny, Racism, Sexism, Abortion, Cultural appropriation, Classism
Moderate: Addiction, Alcoholism, Death, Emotional abuse, Infidelity, Death of parent, Alcohol
Minor: Bullying, Child death, Sexual content, Slavery, Toxic relationship, Antisemitism, Pregnancy, Lesbophobia, Toxic friendship
adventurous
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
From Blood and Ash had so much promise: a fierce girl with a blade, a seductive, brooding immortal prince, and a dark fantasy world full of political intrigue and secrets. But what could have been a gripping, steamy epic instead got bogged down in repetitive inner monologues, a glacially paced first half, and a romance that asked me to suspend disbelief just a bit too much.
I’ll give Jennifer L. Armentrout this: the lore is dense and detailed. Vampiric castes, culty kingdoms, and magical bloodlines. I actually enjoyed unraveling the hierarchy of Atlantians, Ascended, Craven, and Wolven. The problem? It takes over 300 pages for the story to do anything with all that setup. I could’ve skipped straight to page 313 and missed nothing of importance except Poppy’s self-indulgent thoughts and a dozen lectures disguised as dialogue.
Poppy, our “Maiden,” was raised in isolation by a religious cult and spends the majority of the book ping-ponging between being a sheltered, naive narrator and a total badass with a dagger. The latter was great. The former? Painfully frustrating. I understood her confusion and repression, but wow, the girl’s curiosity rarely translated into actual intelligence. Still, I appreciated the subtle realism in how abuse, gaslighting, and captivity have shaped her. She’s learning, even if slowly.
Now let’s talk Hawke. Or Casteel. Or “The Dark One.” Or Mr. Sex Scene Monologue. He’s a 200+ year old prince-turned-rogue who somehow falls for this cult-brainwashed teenager because she holds his hand a couple of times and says sassy things. Their chemistry was hot, I’ll admit. The sex scenes were the best part of the book; detailed, consensual, and actually sexy. Casteel talks her through pleasure, praises her fighting spirit, and treats her like an equal (once you ignore the kidnapping and marriage plans, minor details, right?). But the insta-love was a big eye-roll, especially considering his age, experience, and mission.
There were some solid twists, but I called most of them chapters before they happened. Hawke being an Atlantian? Obvious. The Ascended lying about the gods? Called it. Poppy being half-Atlantian? I mean… come on. If this had been a tighter, better-paced 250-page book, it could’ve really landed. But slogging through Poppy’s repetitive veil-wearing monologues and everyone avoiding direct answers wore me out.
I won’t be continuing the series, though I’ll miss Hawke whispering filth in the snow and praising Poppy’s stabby side. A man who admires your violence and talks you through an orgasm? Unmatched. But not enough to save the book for me.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Adult/minor relationship, Confinement, Death, Emotional abuse, Genocide, Gore, Sexism, Sexual content, Violence, Blood, Grief, Religious bigotry, Death of parent, Gaslighting, Abandonment, Colonisation, Injury/Injury detail, Classism
Moderate: Animal death, Body shaming, Bullying, Child abuse, Child death, Misogyny, Physical abuse, Racism, Sexual assault, Kidnapping, Murder, Sexual harassment
Minor: Cursing, Infidelity, Slavery, Terminal illness, Torture, Toxic relationship, Vomit, Toxic friendship, War
adventurous
dark
emotional
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This book is pure indulgence for anyone who felt things during Jasmine’s red dress scene with Jafar in Aladdin. In Desperate Measures, Katee Robert reimagines that dynamic into a dark, spicy, sinfully entertaining fantasy where Yasmina is bought, claimed, thoroughly ravished by Jafar, and she loves every second of it.
The power exchange between Yasmina and Jafar is the beating heart of the story, and it works. Their relationship is steamy, primal, and consensual, with safewords and fantasies front and center. I especially loved the callback to Raja, her tiger, as their safeword.
I was surprisingly charmed by the Underworld scenes, meeting Hades, Meg (not Hercules Meg), Tink, and Hook gave the world unexpected depth and playfulness. Tink especially stole the show with her sass and fashion sense. And yes, there’s a scene where Jafar makes Yasmina come while holding court with Hook. If you’re here for the spice, you will not be disappointed. The bonus scenes in the luxe edition? Also hot.
While I wasn’t a fan of the “daddy” and “baby girl” kink because it pulled me out of the moment, I appreciated that Robert gave readers a peek behind the curtain in her footnotes, and that she honored a promise, even if it wasn’t my cup of tea. And I loved the author’s forward about breaking away from writing “another love song”, this book feels like an act of creative rebellion, and it’s all the better for it.
Yasmina’s character arc from caged bird to queen in control of her kingdom was satisfying, even if the ending leaned cheesy. It fit the fairytale-villain-vixen vibe so well I didn’t mind. The luxe edition was a treat: red sprayed edges, color artwork, author commentary, and bonus material made this feel like a collector’s item worth showing off.
The power exchange between Yasmina and Jafar is the beating heart of the story, and it works. Their relationship is steamy, primal, and consensual, with safewords and fantasies front and center. I especially loved the callback to Raja, her tiger, as their safeword.
I was surprisingly charmed by the Underworld scenes, meeting Hades, Meg (not Hercules Meg), Tink, and Hook gave the world unexpected depth and playfulness. Tink especially stole the show with her sass and fashion sense. And yes, there’s a scene where Jafar makes Yasmina come while holding court with Hook. If you’re here for the spice, you will not be disappointed. The bonus scenes in the luxe edition? Also hot.
While I wasn’t a fan of the “daddy” and “baby girl” kink because it pulled me out of the moment, I appreciated that Robert gave readers a peek behind the curtain in her footnotes, and that she honored a promise, even if it wasn’t my cup of tea. And I loved the author’s forward about breaking away from writing “another love song”, this book feels like an act of creative rebellion, and it’s all the better for it.
Yasmina’s character arc from caged bird to queen in control of her kingdom was satisfying, even if the ending leaned cheesy. It fit the fairytale-villain-vixen vibe so well I didn’t mind. The luxe edition was a treat: red sprayed edges, color artwork, author commentary, and bonus material made this feel like a collector’s item worth showing off.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Confinement, Physical abuse, Sexual content, Toxic relationship, Blood, Kidnapping, Murder, Toxic friendship, Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Misogyny, Sexism
Minor: Vomit, Alcohol, War
adventurous
dark
mysterious
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I went into The God of the Woods expecting a gripping literary mystery, and for the first 417 pages, I was mostly waiting for that promise to deliver. This novel is sprawling, told through a wide cast of characters across multiple decades, and while I appreciated the ambition, I often found myself more confused than compelled.
The setting of Camp Emerson in the Adirondacks is vivid and layered, a place where generational wealth, blue-collar struggle, and buried secrets converge. I eventually came to appreciate the disjointed storytelling. It mimics how an investigator would piece together a cold case, collecting fragments of truth from various sources until the bigger picture finally emerges. But I needed more tension and less filler for a book pitched as a thriller or mystery.
By the time the story picked up (around page 418), I was fatigued from keeping track of everyone: the Van Laars, the Hewitts, the townspeople of Shattuck, and the investigators. A family tree or character guide would have helped immensely. And while I admire Liz Moore’s ability to flesh out complicated dynamics, especially the imbalance between wealth and dependency, secrecy and survival, I didn’t feel invested in the mystery. When the truth finally unraveled, I didn’t feel shocked or satisfied. I just felt done.
T.J. Hewitt and Investigator Judyta Luptack were standout characters, and I would’ve loved a tighter story centered more squarely on them. While I have never attended summer camp, I can see how the nostalgic setting might enhance the experience for some readers.
If you like a slow-burn literary novel packed with small-town drama, power imbalances, and generational trauma, this might work better for you than it did for me. But for me, The God of the Woods was an overstuffed mystery that didn’t quite earn the emotional payoff it was building toward.
The setting of Camp Emerson in the Adirondacks is vivid and layered, a place where generational wealth, blue-collar struggle, and buried secrets converge. I eventually came to appreciate the disjointed storytelling. It mimics how an investigator would piece together a cold case, collecting fragments of truth from various sources until the bigger picture finally emerges. But I needed more tension and less filler for a book pitched as a thriller or mystery.
By the time the story picked up (around page 418), I was fatigued from keeping track of everyone: the Van Laars, the Hewitts, the townspeople of Shattuck, and the investigators. A family tree or character guide would have helped immensely. And while I admire Liz Moore’s ability to flesh out complicated dynamics, especially the imbalance between wealth and dependency, secrecy and survival, I didn’t feel invested in the mystery. When the truth finally unraveled, I didn’t feel shocked or satisfied. I just felt done.
T.J. Hewitt and Investigator Judyta Luptack were standout characters, and I would’ve loved a tighter story centered more squarely on them. While I have never attended summer camp, I can see how the nostalgic setting might enhance the experience for some readers.
If you like a slow-burn literary novel packed with small-town drama, power imbalances, and generational trauma, this might work better for you than it did for me. But for me, The God of the Woods was an overstuffed mystery that didn’t quite earn the emotional payoff it was building toward.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Adult/minor relationship, Child abuse, Child death, Misogyny, Sexism, Toxic relationship, Toxic friendship
Moderate: Animal death, Bullying, Chronic illness, Death, Domestic abuse, Emotional abuse, Infidelity, Mental illness, Physical abuse, Forced institutionalization, Blood, Grief, Gaslighting, Injury/Injury detail, Classism
Minor: Addiction, Alcoholism, Confinement, Drug use, Dementia, Death of parent, Alcohol
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
The Forest of Vanishing Stars by Kristin Harmel tells an undeniably powerful story—one rooted in resilience, loss, and the fight to survive against horrific odds. Set in the forests of Poland during WWII, it follows Yona, a girl kidnapped from her wealthy German family and raised in isolation to live off the land. As war spreads, Yona discovers her purpose in helping Jewish refugees hide and survive in the wilderness. The novel weaves a tapestry of grief, hope, and identity—especially as Yona grapples with her heritage, love, and the brutal realities of war.
But while the story’s subject matter is deeply important and inspired by true accounts, the execution didn’t quite resonate with me. The pacing was slow, and I struggled to stay engaged as the bleakness of the plot—death, violence, and sorrow—weighed heavily from start to finish. I often felt like I was trudging through the narrative, hoping for a moment of relief or momentum that rarely came.
I also had a hard time suspending disbelief for many of the plot points. Yona seemed to have every survival skill imaginable—fluent in multiple languages, expert in medicine, able to take down enemies in hand-to-hand combat, and somehow always stumbling into the right people at the right time. These conveniences made it harder for me to emotionally invest in her journey, especially when some of the most dramatic turns felt a bit too cinematic to be believable.
Still, I appreciated the novel’s intentions and the spotlight it placed on forest-based resistance and survival during WWII. Harmel’s research and heart are evident, and readers who enjoy historical fiction with emotionally driven plots may find more connection here than I did.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child death, Death, Genocide, Gun violence, Infidelity, Misogyny, Racial slurs, Racism, Sexual content, Violence, Blood, Antisemitism, Medical content, Kidnapping, Grief, Religious bigotry, Death of parent, Pregnancy, War, Injury/Injury detail