Review: The Sun Down Motel

The Sun Down Motel by Simone St. James
My rating: 5 of 5 stars



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Review: The Circus of Mystic Springs

The Circus of Mystic Springs by Mona Marple
My rating: 5 of 5 stars



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Review: Syrian Brides

Syrian Brides by Anna Halabi
My rating: 5 of 5 stars



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Review: Broom Service

Broom Service by Morgana Best
My rating: 4 of 5 stars



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Review: Safe House

Safe House by Jo Jakeman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars



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Review: A Sparrow Falls

A Sparrow Falls by Vicki Olsen
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This book was what I expected but at the same time was more than what I expected. It is Sarah’s story. It is Dee’s story. Dee is Sarah Jane’s mother. Sarah is the only daughter in a hardworking farm family. Some might have called it a white trash family. I don’t consider anyone trash but I have heard the term and know it’s usage. The story of Sarah does involve abuse, child sexual abuse to be exact. I knew it was going to be difficult to read because of that and my own history. I expected to go slowly with the book. The scenes were not over the top or gratuitous, in my opinion. I did take breaks after reading them but they weren’t what they could have been. Being ready for them helped me. There is more more to this book than that portion of it.
To me the book is about family and family isn’t always wrapped in pretty paper tied with a bow. It is about society, too. The ways we help, the ways we don’t and the times we ignore. I think the best part of this book was the lesson that we can’t change where we come from, what people do to us or what people say or think about us. Those things are all choices made by others that affect us. Our power is in our choices. Our choice to be a victim or be a survivor. Our choice in accepting or refusing to believe what others think, say or their treatment of us. Our choice in how we respond to it all. It’s a story about the healing power of love and the freedom found in forgiveness.
I cried copious amounts of tears. I recommend having tissues handy. I loved crying so hard. It meant the author forced me to feel something, which only happens when you have been transported to the world between the pages. What that means for me is that I will spend time after I close the book thinking about it. Relating to it. Working on my self improvement because something in the story has me examining myself.
I recommend this book to those who enjoy memoir type books. At times I wondered if this was based on fact. Afterward, in thinking about it, I realized it was. It might not be the authors story or even someone’s that she knew. But out there in the world..it is or was someone’s life.
I won this book in a Goodreads Giveaway. A review was not required. I voluntarily reviewed the book and all opinions are mine.

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Review: The Sunday Potluck Club

The Sunday Potluck Club by Melissa Storm
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is an amazing book. I finished it last night but have been unable to move on. I couldn’t begin the review until I thought about so many things that came at me while reading it. I still am not certain what to say. This book has layers.
I knew, after reading the first two pages, it would make me cry. I was ready for that. I got a box of Kleenex ready. I wasn’t ready for the push, pull of the book. The push to read on, wanting to know what was going to happen next, especially with Amy, Trent and Olivia. The pull to stop and absorb; to exam my feelings and connections.
Maybe it is because my mom has Alzheimer’s. Not the same as cancer but equally hurtful and devastating. There is two deaths in Alzheimer’s. Did you know that? The first death comes when your parent no longer knows you and you only get glimpses of who you knew was your mom, or dad. The second, the final one, the I’m still not acquainted with, the one I dread. My mom will be gone with no glimpses a possibility. I thought about how different it is from cancer yet the same. I thought of Amy and how closely I felt to her. How much I felt understood and validated by her internal emotional swings. I stopped quite a bit to examine her..and me. I wasn’t as close with my mom as Amy. My mom hurt me. I’ll never know why now. It’s locked up. I’ll never get the apology either that I wanted. Though, in reality, I wanted it with no real hope of getting it. I forgave because I needed to move on. I needed to cling to the belief that it wasn’t me, that I was so bad I didn’t deserve to be loved. But even so, I wanted to hear it from her. Now, even if she wanted to tell me it wasn’t me, she can’t. It’s never coming so I have to deal with that.
The book is a romance, a testament to friendships and, in an odd way, a coming of age. A different age from the usual teen into adult, but still, a coming of age. Amy, Bridget, Nichole and Hazel are all becoming someone different yet the same. All but one have gone from being a daughter into some new role. The memories are there. The love remains. But the arms are empty, the ears don’t hear and the only time you see them, is when you catch a glimpse in the mirror or, if you have them, in your children. You are still you but you have been changed. Death has left its mark just as walking the rocky road to adulthood does. So yes, a coming of age book.
Now, go, read the book.

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