From Books

Book Review: The Latecomers by Helen Klein Ross

Hollingwood had been built by Sarah’s grandfather, a governor of Connecticut who had drawn the plans for the house himself, which accounted for why the house wasn’t like any Bridey had seen. It was the biggest house in the town’s historical district, built with stones mined from the local quarries which weren’t around anymore. The house looked to Bridey like a house in a fairytale. It rambled this way and that, with long hallways and bow windows and several porches and sunrooms and a four-story octagonal turret. The windows at the top of the turret were arched and color-stained like…

Changes…

Hi all! I’ve decided to take this blog in a new direction with more in the moment sharing to include upcoming book releases and informal reviews of backlist books and new releases. I hope you will find something to love! And, as always, you can find me across social media @readvoraciously

Book Review: The Little Shop of Found Things by Paula Brackston

Every soul that once trod this brutal earth leaves their imprint upon the things that matter to them. The things that they held, the things that once echoed the beat of their hearts. That heartbeat may yet be felt, faint but clear, transmitted through the fabric of those belongings, linking us to the dear one…

Book Review: The Rain Watcher by Tatiana De Rosnay

I tell the story now, once, so that I don’t have to tell it again. I’m not good with words, whether they are spoken or penned. When I’m finished, I will hide this. Somewhere it won’t be found. No one knows. No one will. I’ve never told it. I will write it and not show…

Book Review: The Dinner List by Rebecca Serle

“Sometimes it is impossible to move forward without understanding what happened.” Conrad. “What did happen?” Audrey says. I keep my eyes on the table, but I still feel his eyes on me. I wish you were seated where Conrad is. I wish I couldn’t smell him—heady and dense—or find his foot under the table, so…

Book Review: The Clockmaker’s Daughter by Kate Morton

The wind blew and the trees moaned, and thunder rolled down the river to take the house within its clutches; while inside, talk turned to spirits and curses. There was a fire, crackling in the grate, and a candle flame quivered, and in the darkness, in that atmosphere of delicious fear and confession, something else…