And so, with what dignity remains, I lay down my bookmark, sheath my highlighter, and bid this series farewell. May it journey on without me, through realms I shall never read. My watch has ended.
DNF
★★
And so, with what dignity remains, I lay down my bookmark, sheath my highlighter, and bid this series farewell. May it journey on without me, through realms I shall never read. My watch has ended.
DNF
★★
The plot is twisted, suspenseful, and full of jaw-dropping surprises, especially in the final chapters. I was completely caught off guard by the revelations, and the story kept me on the edge of my seat throughout. While I didn’t connect with every character, the tension, mystery, and clever plotting more than make up for it.
Never Lie is a masterfully crafted thriller that delivers mystery, suspense, and unexpected twists until the very end. If you love thrillers that keep you guessing and reward patience with shocking reveals, this is a must-read.
Rating: ★★★★☆
The story follows America Singer, a young woman from one of the lower castes, who reluctantly enters a competition to win the heart of Prince Maxon. Maxon is basically perfection in human form—kind, good, and entirely too wholesome for the chaos surrounding him. What makes their romance so compelling is that it doesn’t start as a whirlwind love-at-first-sight story. It’s slow, sweet, and feels genuine—friends-to-lovers done right.
America is practical, smart, and relatable. She doesn’t want to leave her first love behind or abandon her family, yet the Selection gives her a chance at a completely new life. From learning how to navigate palace life and lavish wardrobes to navigating the subtle politics and social games of the Selection, she grows in ways that make you root for her every step of the way. Alongside the romance, there’s tension from political unrest, rebels, and palace intrigue, which keeps the story engaging beyond just the love triangle.
What really sold me on this series was Kiera Cass’s ability to balance romance, suspense, and character development. You get a glimpse of palace life through America’s eyes—the glamour, the pressure, the excitement—and it all feels immersive. While the dystopian aspects are lighter than, say, The Hunger Games, the series focuses more on personal growth, love, and the struggles of navigating an unfair society.
I still think about this trilogy years later. The writing is smooth, the plot is addictive, and America’s journey is the kind of story that sticks with you. If you love romance with a little political intrigue, page-turning drama, and characters you genuinely care about, these first three books are a must-read.
Just a heads-up: the follow-up duology doesn’t live up to the magic of the original trilogy. The main character doesn’t have the same spark, and the story didn’t keep me turning pages the way America’s story did. But as far as the first three books go—five stars, no hesitation, and I’ll happily reread them anytime.
★★★★★
I am not trapped. I am not asking for help. I have chosen this position carefully.
I am proud of my toe beans.
For now, I stay like this. Open. Still. Exactly where I meant to be.
Odessa begins as the overlooked “spare” princess—ignored,
underestimated, and completely unprepared for the role suddenly thrust upon
her. When she’s unexpectedly chosen to marry the future king of Turah, she’s
also ordered by her father to spy on her new kingdom, stepping into a mission
her sister trained for, not her. Odessa is insecure and often out of her depth,
but her grit, fire, and determination to rise to the occasion make her an
incredibly compelling heroine. Watching her grow—sometimes stumbling, sometimes
surprising even herself—was one of the story’s greatest joys.
Then there’s the Guardian. Gruff, stoic, impossibly skilled,
and harboring secrets that shift the entire narrative. His dynamic with Odessa
is tense, sharp, and wonderfully slow-building. Their romance is the kind that
makes you ache a little—in the best way—with banter, longing, and a tension
that simmers right beneath the surface. This is a slow burn that earns every
spark.
The world of Calandra is another standout. The lore is rich,
the politics twisty, and the monsters. Absolutely unforgettable. From
sky-dominating beasts to monstrous sea creatures, Perry creates threats that
are vivid, horrifying, and exhilarating. The action scenes are intense and
cinematic, and because the characters are always on the move, the pacing never
dips. Even for a large book, it flies by.
And the twists. My goodness, the twists. Some cleverly
hinted at, others landing like a punch to the chest. It isn’t a harsh cliffhanger, but it absolutely sets the board for
what promises to be a wild continuation of the series.
I’m notoriously stingy with five-star ratings, but this one
earned it easily. It’s emotional, surprising, atmospheric, and beautifully
crafted. And while I tend to lose interest between installments in a series,
this ending was so strong and the world so compelling that I’m genuinely
excited to see where the story goes next. If anything can keep me hooked from
book to book, it’s this series.
If you want a romantasy that centers on real character
growth, immersive world-building, unforgettable monsters, and a romance that
smolders rather than rushes, Shield of Sparrows is an absolute must-read.
★★★★★
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I checked this title out from my local library, visit your today!
This is a great Bible study guide, perfect for personal reading or group study. Louie Giglio’s analogies make complex spiritual concepts easy to understand, and his teaching style is engaging, entertaining, and thought-provoking. I loved how he stays true to biblical truth while making the material relatable—he’s the kind of pastor that is very relatable.
The book comes with a QR code for streaming each lesson, so you can do the workbook even without a group. The study guide includes excellent follow-up questions, videos, worship ideas, action points, and prayer exercises—so there’s something for every type of learner. Our book club had wonderful discussions using this guide.
The only reason I docked one star is that for a busy mom, the workload can be a lot: two chapters per week plus all the additional activities can feel overwhelming. My suggestion is to break each session into two weeks to fully absorb and apply the lessons. Even so, it’s packed with valuable takeaways and well worth the purchase.
★★★★★
In Memory of Chip
Chip was more than just a goat on our farm. He was a constant presence, a personality, and a part of our everyday life. Wherever I was, Chip was usually nearby watching, following, or simply existing in his own very particular way.
He had a big presence for such a small animal. He was curious, stubborn, affectionate on his terms, and full of character. It feels quieter without him, and his absence is noticed in the little moments—the routines, the pauses, the places he used to be.
Losing him has been harder than I expected. Animals like Chip weave themselves into daily life so deeply that when they’re gone, there’s an empty space that can’t quite be filled. He brought laughter, comfort, and a sense of companionship that only comes from time spent together.
Chip passed away, and I am very sad. But I am also grateful. Grateful for the memories, for the time we had him, and for the joy he brought simply by being himself.
He was truly the best goat ever, and he will always be part of our farm’s story.
The Correspondent is a
thoughtful epistolary novel that reminded me of 84, Charing Cross Road, one of my decades old favorites, which made it even more impressive to learn this is a debut. Told entirely
through letters, with a few emails mixed in, the story feels carefully built
and deeply intentional.
Sybil Van Antwerp spends her
mornings writing letters on beautiful stationery, seeing correspondence as a
civil, lasting way to connect with people who have mattered in her life.
Writing gives her time to think and choose her words wisely, something she
clearly values.
Most of her letters end by asking what the recipient is reading, and when replies do come, each voice is distinct—especially noticeable in the audiobook. There’s also an unsent letter she keeps revising over the years, which functions more like a private journal. I correctly guessed the intended recipient when it’s finally revealed at the end. One letter near the conclusion stood out in particular, showing Sybil struggling to put something important into words—an especially powerful moment given how articulate she usually is.
Books are woven throughout the
story, from literary references to correspondence with true well‑known authors. Not
every letter gets a reply, and that adds to the realism and quiet tension of
the book.
The Correspondent is best suited for readers who enjoy character‑driven stories and the intimacy of letters. It’s not fast or plot‑heavy, but it’s rewarding, reflective, and meant to be taken slowly.
★★★★
I checked this title out from my local library, visit your today!
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On the left, we have the gray fluff—fully reclined, belly up, zero responsibilities, soaking in the grass like it’s a five‑star resort. On the right, the orange supervisor—sitting upright, alert, and clearly judging the relaxation technique of everyone else in sight.
They didn’t ask for much today. Just sunshine, a soft patch of green, and the freedom to do absolutely nothing. Honestly? That feels like a life lesson we could all use a little more often.
No rushing. No pretending to be productive. Just existing, enjoying the moment, and trusting that the world can handle itself for a few minutes.
If you need me, I’ll be taking notes from the experts.
I sit like this so you know I am paying attention.
Nothing is happening, but it might. That is different. I watch your hands, your face, the small movements that mean food, or play, or nothing at all.
I stay still so I don’t miss it.
If you don’t do anything, that’s fine. I can wait longer.
I am very good at waiting.
Lydia Bird seems to have it all: a loving fiancé, Freddie, a close-knit family, and strong friendships. But her life changes forever on her twenty-eighth birthday, when Freddie is killed in a tragic car accident. Lydia falls into deep grief, becoming homebound and unable to sleep. After her sister insists she seek help, Lydia is prescribed medication that allows her to sleep deeply—and enter an alternate reality where Freddie is still alive.
The story explores Lydia living between these two worlds. She slowly returns to work and social life in her real world, while secretly visiting the “alternate” life with Freddie. Over time, the emotional strain of balancing both lives forces Lydia to confront her grief, her identity, and the life she wants to lead.
The first half of the book felt slow and repetitive, lingering heavily on Lydia’s mourning. The grief is portrayed authentically, but at times the story dragged, making it feel laborious. The ending felt rushed—after months of processing grief, Lydia’s resolution was condensed into just a paragraph, leaving me wishing for a more fully developed next stage of her life.
This is not a typical romance. Readers seeking light-hearted love stories may be disappointed. However, those interested in grief, emotional healing, and family dynamics will find meaningful depth here. Personally, I found it slow at times, but appreciated the heartfelt exploration of loss and the eventual hope.
★★★
Second Chance at Sunshine Inn is a warm, slow‑burn romance built on a familiar but effective premise: two strangers unexpectedly inherit an inn—and strongly disagree on what to do with it.
Everleigh returns to Sunshine Bay for the reading of her godmother Alana’s will and learns she now co‑owns the inn with Cade, a man she’s never met. Everleigh wants to sell the property to fund a nonprofit she and Alana once dreamed of starting, while Cade believes the inn should be restored and kept running. Their opposing visions create a believable, engaging conflict that drives the story.
Everleigh is kind, optimistic, and quietly grieving, making her easy to root for. Cade begins the story gruff and guarded, but this is more grumpy‑sunshine than true enemies‑to‑lovers. As the story unfolds, his rough edges soften in believable ways.
That said, the pacing is uneven. The story leans on miscommunication more than necessary, and the final third feels messy and overly drawn out—I nearly DNFed near the end. While this is a clean, secular romance, a touch of faith‑based reflection could have added depth to the characters’ healing journeys. Greater emotional maturity from both main characters would also have strengthened the resolution.
If you enjoy Hallmark‑style romances, grumpy‑sunshine dynamics, and slow‑burn love stories set in cozy coastal towns—and don’t mind emotionally inept characters—this book is likely a good fit.
★★★
(I received a copy of this title from NetGalley and the
publisher for review purposes. This is my honest opinion.)
My Grandma's Casserole
1 Package of egg noodles, cookedThis casserole came straight from my grandma, who grew up during the Great Depression. She knew how to stretch a dollar, make do with what she had, and feed a whole family without wasting a thing. If there was food on the table, you were grateful—and you definitely didn’t complain.
She made this casserole all the time. It was affordable,
filling, and could feed a crowd, which was important when there were always
extra people at the table. And somehow, no matter how simple it was, it always
tasted amazing. Grandma had that magic where food just felt like love.
Every time I make this dish, I think about her strength, her practicality, and her ability to turn humble ingredients into something everyone remembered. Funny how a Depression‑era casserole is still bringing people together… even if some of them are doing it wrong.
This book was extremely disappointing and, frankly, misleading. I picked it up expecting a story centered on space, science, and intelligent women navigating a high-stakes space program. Instead, it’s primarily a romance between two women—a fact that isn’t made clear until about a third of the way through which like a bait-and-switch.
The summary and marketing misrepresent the story, and it left me feeling frustrated and misled. The space program and scientific elements are minimal and feel like a backdrop rather than the focus, and the emphasis on romance overshadowed the parts I was actually interested in. The pacing also dragged in sections where the focus shifted entirely to relationship drama, making the story feel uneven and padded.
While some readers might enjoy the romance, for me, this book failed on almost every level. I don’t feel it delivered what it promised.
★★
The story begins when a first-time bank robber storms into a cashless bank, realizes his mistake, and flees into a nearby apartment where a showing is happening. The prospective buyers inside end up as hostages, and each has their own quirky, often heartbreaking story. Backman spends time peeling back each character’s layers, showing their regrets, fears, and the small ways they try (and fail) to connect with the world around them. The dialogue is hilarious, the observations about human nature are spot-on, and the writing—short chapters, mixed perspectives, even witness statements—keeps the pace lively and engaging.
This isn’t a typical thriller, though. The “crime” is just the setup for exploring universal themes: anxiety, loneliness, regret, and the messiness of human connection. Backman balances humor with heartbreak beautifully—there were moments that made me laugh out loud and others that made me pause and reflect. The ending ties everything together in a satisfying way that left me feeling warm and thoughtful.
That said, this isn’t a book I’d automatically pick up on my own. The story jumps around a lot—back and forth between timelines, perspectives, and even police reports—which can feel chaotic, especially early on. Some of the plot elements are far-fetched, and the characters can be combative or over-the-top at times. But that’s kind of the point: Backman wants you to embrace the chaos, lean into the absurdity, and focus on the human connections.
Overall, I really enjoyed this one. It’s funny, clever, and surprisingly touching, even if it’s not my usual genre. Backman’s skill with character development and dialogue is impressive, and this book is full of small insights about life, regret, and human nature that linger after you finish. I’d recommend it to anyone who likes quirky, character-driven stories with both laughs and heart.
Rating: ★★★★
The Love Haters by Katherine Center is a heartwarming, witty story about love, self-discovery, and friendship. Katie, recently dumped by her now-famous ex, struggles with self-esteem and her sense of worth. As she rebuilds her life, she meets Hutch, a brooding “love hater” with a mysterious past, and begins a journey of healing, self-acceptance, and ultimately, love.
Katie is relatable, and her growth throughout the novel is moving. Her friendships, especially with the wise Rue and loyal Beanie, provide guidance, support, and humor. Hutch is complex and quietly brooding, but the romance takes a backseat to Katie’s personal journey of embracing herself and her imperfections.
The book explores themes of self-empowerment, healing, and the transformative power of relationships. While a few passages feel preachy and Katie’s immaturity occasionally slows the story, Center’s engaging writing and clever dialogue make the story enjoyable. The pacing is steady, and the humor balances the emotional moments well.
Love Haters is a thoughtful, uplifting read that celebrates self-worth, friendship, and personal growth. It’s ideal for readers who enjoy romance with heart and stories about overcoming personal struggles.
★★★★
She’s sweet, a little spunky, and takes her naps very seriously. She curls herself into the tiniest ball, tucks her nose in, and sleeps like she has absolutely no responsibilities—which, to be fair, she doesn’t.
Jazzy has opinions. She wants attention… until she doesn’t. She loves to explore, play, and insert herself into whatever is happening, especially if it’s something she’s not supposed to be involved in. One minute she’s curled up on a blanket looking innocent, and the next she’s racing across the room for reasons known only to her. Balance matters.
We’re also going to politely ignore the fact that she sheds white hair everywhere. The couch, the clothes, the blankets… possibly the air itself. We see nothing. We know nothing.
Small cat. Big attitude. Lots of love. Just the right amount of chaos. Jazzy has a way of quietly (and sometimes loudly) making every day better.
This book is for anyone who has ever felt stuck at a crossroads, afraid of making the “wrong” decision. The Path of Least Regret gently shifts the focus away from perfection and certainty‑chasing and toward something far more attainable: peace of mind. As Somani reminds readers, “One of the most compassionate things we can do is grant ourselves permission to feel,” setting the tone for a thoughtful, human approach to decision‑making.
Parul Somani introduces her Path of Least Regret® framework, built around one powerful question: Which choice will I regret the least, given what I know and value right now? Drawing from a background in strategy and behavioral science—and personal experience navigating a cancer diagnosis shortly after becoming a mother—her guidance feels grounded, empathetic, and practical. She acknowledges that life’s biggest decisions rarely come with certainty but reassures readers that “a life of fewer regrets and greater peace is in sight” when choices are rooted in intention rather than fear.
Throughout the book, Somani blends research with real‑life examples, reflective prompts, and helpful sections at the end of the chapters like Get Your Bearings and Checkpoints, encouraging readers to pause and apply what they’re learning. The message is clear and reassuring: good decisions aren’t about perfect outcomes, but about acting with honesty and alignment. We’re called to “pursue your intentions with purposeful actions.” For anyone seeking clarity, confidence, and a calmer way forward, this book delivers exactly that.
★★★★
I received a copy of this title from NetGalley and the
publisher for review purposes. This is my honest opinion.
Katherine Center remains one of my all-time favorite authors for romance that is warm, witty, and deeply comforting. Her books consistently deliver sharp banter, emotional sincerity, and lighthearted storytelling without relying on spice—and The Shippers highlights many of the qualities that make her such a dependable voice in contemporary romance.
The humor is strong. The cruise ship setting adds fun and momentum, creating a festive backdrop that enhances the rom‑com feel and keeps the story moving at an easy, engaging pace.
Jojo, the (annoying) heroine, is introduced as exceptionally intelligent. She’s written not as a flawless protagonist, but as someone still learning how to trust herself emotionally. Her choices are messy and impulsive.
Miscommunication plays a large role in the story’s tension, particularly in the latter half of the book, as Jojo tends to run from difficult conversations. These moments sometimes tested my patience, but they also set the stage for meaningful growth once she finally begins to take ownership of her happiness.
In my opinion the novel’s greatest strength is the hero, Cooper. Thoughtful, emotionally available, steady, and kind. His patience and emotional maturity ground the story and provide a wonderful contrast to Jojo’s uncertainty. He consistently shows up with care and insight, making him a standout and a joy to read.
The chemistry between Jojo and Cooper is immediate and believable, supported by their shared history and easy closeness. A subplot involving Jojo’s parents and their strained marriage adds emotional depth and balance, reinforcing the book’s themes of communication and commitment.
The Shippers is a light, feel‑good romantic comedy. The humor lands and the ending delivers the comforting resolution readers expect. It’s an easy, binge‑able read—perfect for a beach day or a cozy afternoon—and a reminder of why Katherine Center remains such a reliable and comforting presence in contemporary romance.
★★★★★
Many thanks to St. Martin’s Press and NetGalley for providing an advance digital copy in exchange for my honest review. All opinions are my own.
There’s something grounding about stepping outside and being greeted by the soft clucks and curious looks of our chickens. These ladies are more than just egg layers—they’re part of the rhythm of life here on our home farm. From early morning feedings to afternoon sunbathing, they remind us to slow down and enjoy the simple things.
Today I’m sharing a few snapshots of our flock, capturing the everyday moments that make farm life so special.
Every farm has that goat.
Ours is Nilla.
At first glance, she looks innocent nestled in hay. Do not be fooled. Nilla is not resting. She is plotting.
Nilla does not believe hay is something you eat politely from a feeder. Hay is a lifestyle. A nest. A throne. A blanket fort built exclusively so she can stare directly into your soul while chewing with confidence.
Her signature move is burrowing. You’ll walk into the barn, see hay everywhere, and realize Nilla has once again fully moved in.
She assumes every object exists solely for her enrichment. Buckets? Toys. Feed scoops? Instruments. Chairs?
Challenges. Fences? Despite years of experience, Nilla remains convinced her horns will absolutely fit through the fence this time. They never do. She gets stuck, complains loudly, and acts personally offended when rescued.
At home, she especially enjoys picking on her youngest child—stealing snacks, standing just a little too close, and generally reminding everyone who’s in charge. It’s less “mothering” and more “light hazing.”
Yes, she has horns—but they’re mostly decorative (and frequently trapped). Her real weapon is her face. That smug, tilted expression that says, You’re mad?
Nilla is not just a goat.
She is a statement.
She is a liability.
The Last Page is a cozy, bookish romance that feels like a love letter to independent bookstores. Set in New York City, it follows Ella, a longtime bookseller who expects to inherit the shop she loves—only to learn it’s been left to the owner’s grandson, Henry.
One of the book’s strengths is how maturely Ella and Henry handle an awkward situation, choosing honesty and teamwork over unnecessary miscommunication. The story shines in its setting, with nearly every scene steeped in books and a strong focus on found family and community.
The romance is a slow burn, though the emotional chemistry didn’t fully click for me. I did, however, love the chapter‑opening book recommendations, which added a charming, thoughtful touch. The supporting cast brings warmth and humor, and Henry is especially easy to root for.
Overall, this is a sweet, Hallmark‑style comfort read perfect for book lovers or a cozy palate cleanser. While the familiar “bookstore in danger” plot felt predictable, the charm, nostalgia, and love of books make it an enjoyable story to curl up with.
Thanks to NetGalley, Crooked Lane Books, and Edelweiss for the ARC. All opinions are my own.
I have to be honest—this is the first book I’ve ever reviewed without finishing it. But not because I didn’t like it. This simply isn’t a book meant to be rushed. Good Enough Is the New Perfect is a collection of real stories from women and mothers who share how they’ve found balance and peace in their own lives. And the key takeaway? No two journeys look the same.
As a college graduate, a working mom of six, and a breast cancer survivor, this book spoke to me on a very personal level. I chose to work as a bookkeeper—making far less than my degree could earn—because that’s what my family needs right now. I was also pregnant with my youngest when I battled breast cancer five years ago. Balance is something I struggle with almost daily.
This book doesn’t promise perfection—because perfection doesn’t exist. Instead, it offers reassurance that “good enough” really is enough. Reading about other women who have come to terms with where they are in life, despite their struggles, is comforting and inspiring. Sharing these stories matters, because you never know who might need to hear that they’re not alone.
I’m taking my time with this one, letting each story settle before moving on to the next. While I haven’t finished it yet, I would still recommend it. It’s a book to read slowly, reflectively, and honestly.
★★★★☆