The Shippers

Title: The Shippers
Author: Katherine Center
Published: May 19, 2026 by St. Martin's Press
Format: Kindle, 336 Pages
Genre: Romance

Blurb: After a whole lifetime of being bad at love, JoJo Burton decides to solve her intimacy issues once and for all at her sister’s destination wedding on a cruise ship. With the help of a little pop psychology, she diagnoses herself with a fixation on the neighborhood guy who was her her first crush and first kiss (and who just happens to be a newly-divorced wedding guest ), and she decides to woo him during the cruise for some long-delayed closure. Only problem is, her sister’s a little busy being a bride at the moment—so JoJo ropes in her childhood bestie, Cooper Watts, to be her wing man. Cooper: who RSVPed no, but then showed up, anyway. Cooper: who left town without a word four years earlier and moved to London. Cooper: who was, if she’s honest, the worst heartbreak of JoJo’s life. It’s bliss for her to see him again, and it’s agony, too—and the more they team up for Project Conquest, the more she obsesses over questions she can’t bring herself to ask.

Shipboard antics ensue in this witty, heart-tugging, childhood-friends-to-lovers romance—as JoJo and Cooper fake flirt, slow dance, share a cabin, sing duets, treat sunburns, get jealous, rescue each other over and over, and finally, at last, figure it all out in the most blissful, swoony, romantic way.

My Opinion: The Shippers hooked me right away. The opening had that fizzy rom com energy full of light, charm, and promise. But somewhere around the middle, the momentum slipped, and I found myself watching JoJo, a 29 year old commitment phobe, wander in circles trying to reenact a teenage kiss and “find herself.” And look, I enjoy a good story as much as anyone, but there’s only so long I can cheer for a grown woman who keeps tripping over herself

The big “miscommunication” at the heart of the plot? Most readers will spot it early. And that’s fine; if that’s the trope the author wants to lean into, I’ll play along. But I did spend a good chunk of the book muttering “okay, but can we please get on with it,” like I was stuck behind a slow driver in the fast lane.

This is my second Kathryn Center novel, the first being The Love Haters, which I genuinely enjoyed. That book had a fuller cast with background characters who added texture, humor, and emotional grounding. Here, we technically have a mother and grandmother, but they don’t offer the kind of guidance or maturity JoJo so clearly needs. It felt like the story kept teeing up opportunities for growth, only to let them drift away.

And the length… well, it went on a bit longer than the story could comfortably support. The miscommunication trope becomes a never ending loop, and some of the logistical leaps are so far fetched they feel like the narrative equivalent of “don’t look too closely at this part, because I had to make the story connect.” I get why the author made those choices since sometimes you need a wild detour to keep the plot moving, but it did pull me out of the story more than once.

For many readers, this rom com will absolutely scratch the itch: it’s cute, it’s breezy, and it has that signature Kathryn Center warmth. But I’m still on the fence. By the end of a romance, I want to feel like the characters have grown, like they’ve nudged each other toward becoming better versions of themselves. I didn’t quite get that with JoJo and Cooper. They’re likable enough, but their arc felt more like a loop than a climb.

In the end, it’s a pleasant read, just not the one that will stick with me the way The Love Haters did.

Fatal Fiction

Title: Fatal Fiction
Author: Karen MacInerney
Published: June 30, 2024 by Gray Whale Press
Format: Paperback, 199 Pages
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Series: Snug Harbor Mysteries #4

Blurb: The air at Seaside Cottage Books is tinged with autumn, and bookseller Max Sayers is helping her friend Denise Wilmington start a new chapter by turning the abandoned shop next door into a cozy coffee house. But when the two women dig up a decades-old rhododendron by the front walk, they uncover a grisly secret entwined with the bush's roots: a woman's skeleton, buried with a gold ring.

But Max doesn't have time to dig up dirt on old bones. The next day, a famous Maine author's bequest to the Snug Harbor library vanishes within hours of arriving. Then Max's assistant Bethany and her boyfriend Devin discover the head librarian—and Devin's new boss--strangled with a phone cord behind the circulation desk.

Suspicion quickly darkens the crisp fall air. Was Bethany's boyfriend, who had no love lost for his new boss, behind the library director's untimely death? Or is a darker, older plot hidden in Snug Harbor's leafy streets? When a curious Max finds herself the subject of the next attack, the plot arc becomes terrifyingly clear. It's up to Max to find the villain, and fast... or her next chapter may be her last.

My Opinion: *It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to grab a red pen mid chapter, but this one had my fingers twitching. Plotting gaps, “wait, what about…?” moments, and repetition that felt like déjà vu on a loop kept pulling me out of the story.

To be fair, the dual plot setup almost saved things. Just when I’d start to tire of one thread, the other would wander back in. But then the second storyline wrapped up so abruptly it read like the author glanced at the page count and thought, oh no, I need to land this plane right now, even if it is only 199 pages. It’s the kind of rushed ending that makes you flip back a few pages to see if you missed something—spoiler: you didn’t, and most likely, already had it figured out.

The pacing overall felt slow and uninspired, and the repetition didn’t help. By the end, the only bright spot was that the main female character wasn’t romantically entangled with the small town detective. Which was good since, the police could care less about the dead guy in the library.

And here’s the bigger realization this book nudged forward: I’ve outgrown this corner of the self-published cozy mystery world. Too many of these stories need a second set of editorial eyes to catch the missteps before they hit readers. I used to overlook that. Now it just grates.

So, much like the author’s Gray Whale Inn series, my time in Snug Harbor ends here. Some series fade out gently; others hand you the scissors and let you cut the cord yourself.

The Brothers McKay

Title: The Brothers McKay
Author: Craig Johnson
Expected Publication: May 26, 2026 by Viking
Format: Kindle, 368 Pages
Genre: Police Procedural
Series: Walt Longmire #22

Blurb: When Pepper McKay, one of the most hated men in Absaroka County, is found murdered on his ranch in Crazy Woman Canyon, suspects aren’t in short supply. But Sheriff Walt Longmire’s attention is on those who had gathered for a family meeting that evening, McKay’s very different sons: a smooth-talking charmer, a cosmopolitan journalist, a reclusive monk, and a half-Native ranch hand who keeps the place running. Each had a motive. Each claims he’s innocent.

As Walt investigates what happened that night at the O-Kay Lodge, he’s pulled into a tangle of old grudges and long-buried secrets. Then the case takes a sharp turn: a second body surfaces, and a wildfire tears through the canyon, trapping Walt and forcing him into a fight for his life as both the killer and the elements close in.

The twenty-second novel in the Longmire series, The Brothers McKay is a murder mystery and a survival thriller that tests the sheriff’s hard-won sense of justice—all while paying sly homage to Dostoevsky’s classic.

My Opinion: Book twenty two, and Craig Johnson is still out here proving he can take Walt Longmire anywhere he wants with his philosophical detours, historical rabbit holes, and the occasional “wait, why are we learning this?” sidebar included. And honestly, that’s part of why this series remains one of my favorites. When Johnson steps away from the woo woo elements that sometimes drift into the supernatural, the books settle into that grounded, wry, quietly intense rhythm that hooked me in the first place.

This one, The Brothers McKay, is basically Johnson showing you everything he has: autopsy tidbits, chess strategy, Wyoming history, religious quotes, car maintenance, heavy machinery, and if he can wedge it in, he will. It’s like he’s saying, “Sit tight, we’ll get to the mystery… eventually.” And he does, but he takes the scenic route while muttering about something philosophical.

Lucien shows up, and as usual, I can take him or leave him. Victoria remains her annoying self. But Henry Standing Bear? Always a win. His presence sharpens the story. His intensity and dry humor have a way of grounding Walt every time he steps onto the page, making the whole book feel more alive. Most importantly, he brings out a funnier, more self aware version of Walt.

As for the mystery itself, apparently, the clues were there, and I missed them. I really thought it was the other guy, and it wasn’t until the final stretch, when Johnson finally snaps all the pieces together, that I had that “ohhh, that’s what we were doing” moment. The first 80% is a slow simmer, but the last 20%? Clear your schedule. Sit down. Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Just read.

And then there’s the literary twist where Johnson is retelling The Brothers Karamazov. Thankfully, a certain not so incarcerated visitor in Walt’s open door jail cell spells that out for the reader. I’m not suddenly inspired to tackle the Russian classic, but I did poke around enough to appreciate what Johnson was doing. The parallels are clever, the themes surprisingly fitting, and the whole thing adds a layer of depth.

In the end, The Brothers McKay is a slow, wandering, detail stuffed ride that rewards your patience with a finale that hits hard. Johnson may take his sweet time, but he knows exactly where he’s going. And once again, I’m glad I went along for the trip.

Daughter of Egypt

Title: Daughter of Egypt
Author: Marie Benedict
Published: March 24, 2026 by St. Martin's Press
Format: Hardcover, 352 pgs
Genre: Historical Fiction

Blurb: 1920’s London was enthralled by the discovery of the treasure-filled tomb of Pharaoh Tutankhamun. Filled with priceless statues, jewels, and the gold-encased mummy of the boy Pharaoh himself, the burial site unleashed a fascination with the ancient world and revolutionized the world of archeology.

The discovery was made by Lord Carnarvon of Highclere Castle and his associate, famed archeologist Howard Carter. What no one knows is that without the pioneering spirit of Lady Evelyn Herbert, Carnarvon’s daughter, the tomb might never have been found. As a young woman, Evelyn was fascinated by the story of Hatshepsut, a woman who had to assume the guise of a man in order to rule Egypt. Although she brought peace and prosperity to Egypt, her male successors ruthlessly and thoroughly erased her name from history.

Lady Evelyn’s ambition to find the tomb of Egypt’s first woman ruler exposes her to life-threatening danger and pits her against archeologists who refuse to believe the tomb can be found―and certainly not by a woman. Refusing to give up, Evelyn is on the verge of success when she is suddenly forced to make an agonizing choice between loyalty to her beloved father and Carter and realizing the dream of a lifetime.

My Opinion: Marie Benedict’s Daughter of Egypt opens with the kind of dense historical preamble that will either sweep you into its current or leave you blinking and wondering when the actual story will begin. Beginning in 1919 with Eve—Lady Anne Penelope Marian Herbert, daughter of the 6th Earl of Carnarvon, who becomes fascinated with her father’s Egyptian excavations. Her chapters carry the bulk of the narrative, but it’s Hatshepsut’s voice, centuries earlier in 1486 BC, that brings the real color and vitality. If anything, the contrast becomes the novel’s most interesting tension: one woman trying to uncover history, the other fighting not to be erased from it.

The themes are unmistakable: women’s perseverance, the quiet (and not so quiet) ways women are written out of the record, the gender politics of empire, and the shadow of British imperialism hanging over every artifact Eve studies. But here’s the rub: those same details often pull you out of the story just as you’re settling in. The plot moves slowly, the digressions pile up, and before long, the book starts to feel less like a novel and more like a very long, very embellished lecture.

Then comes the shift back to Hatshepsut—Princess, “God’s Wife of Amun,” future pharaoh, and the figure who fuels Eve’s curiosity. Her chapters should have been the beating heart of the book, and in flashes, they are. But the author’s note makes clear just how freely Benedict played with the historical record, and that’s where the disappointment sets in. When I read historical fiction, I want to walk away feeling like I’ve learned something real, even if the edges are softened for storytelling. Here, I couldn’t tell where the facts ended and the fiction began, and because I’m not deeply versed in this era, the whole thing left me feeling unsure rather than enlightened.

By the time I switched to the audiobook, it had drifted into background noise, which is never a great sign. Benedict is a hit or miss author for me, and this one, despite its promising premise and powerful women at its center, simply didn’t land.

An Ordinary Sort of Evil

Title: An Ordinary Sort of Evil
Author: Kelley Armstrong
Expected Publication: May 19, 2026 by Minotaur Books
Format: Kindle, 320 Pages
Genre: Time Travel
Series: A Rip Through Time #5

Blurb: Modern-day homicide detective Mallory Mitchell has grown accustomed to life in Victorian Scotland after travelling 150 years into the past into the body of a housemaid. She’s built a new life for herself. Even though she works as an assistant to forensic-science pioneer Dr. Duncan Gray and Detective Hugh McCreadie, she considers them true friends. And with Gray in particular, perhaps, someday, something more.

Late one night, Gray and Mallory are summoned urgently to the home of Lady Adler, a patron of Gray’s undertaking business, and they assume there's been a death in the household. But instead, they arrive in the midst of a seance with a ghost demanding Gray's presence. The ghost is Lady Adler's former maid, who had gone missing but now requests that Gray investigate her murder. Although Gray and Mallory are skeptical, they agree to look into the matter, whether she's dead or alive. But unsure if there's been a murder or not, unable to call out the medium as a fraud, and concerned for the fate of the young maid, Gray and Mallory are once again drawn into a mystery much more puzzling--and more dangerous--than it first seems.

My Opinion: I can’t be the only one who chuckled at the idea of a time traveler investigating séances and ghosts. Mallory has literally hopped centuries, but this is where her cohorts draw the line? I briefly wondered if I was the only reader thinking it.

If you’ve ever wanted a crash course in autopsies, what to look for, what not to poke, and how to keep your stomach steady, this book has you covered. It never quite crosses into squeamish territory, but some readers may find themselves skimming a paragraph or two.

What really works here is the banter. Mallory and Dr. Gray have that easy, teasing rhythm that makes you want to linger in their scenes. Gray’s patience is almost saintly as Mallory casually drops modern references he has absolutely no framework for. And honestly, I’m convinced she does it partly to keep him off balance, and partly because she’s nursing a crush the size of a cathedral. It’s charming, and it gives the book a heartbeat when the plot starts to wander.

And wander it does. For a 320 page novel (with a surprisingly long 13 hour audiobook runtime), this story feels long. There’s a lot of atmosphere, a lot of character history that returning readers already know, and the murders sometimes drift into the background while the mood takes center stage. It’s not bad, it is just slow, and occasionally repetitive.

But the final quarter? That’s where Kelley Armstrong finally snaps everything into focus. The pace picks up, the tension sharpens, and the “art ful” twist lands with a satisfying knock. I love Armstrong and have read her across genres, but this one didn’t show her at her strongest. Still, that ending saves the experience and reminds you why she has such a loyal following.

Ms. Mebel Goes Back to the Chopping Block

Title: Ms. Mebel Goes Back to the Chopping Block
Author: Jesse Q. Sutanto
Published: April 28, 2026 by Berkley
Format: Paperback, 320 Pages
Genre: Women's Fiction

Blurb: Retirement should mean long-awaited trips to the sapphire waters of Santorini or careening down a sand dune in Dubai. For sixty-three-year-old Mebel, retirement means her husband of more than forty years announcing that he's leaving her for their private chef. Mebel isn’t sure who's the bigger loss.

Not to worry, Mebel has the perfect plan: she’s going to win back her husband. No one knows what he needs better than her—after all, she's been anticipating his needs their whole marriage. And if he wants a wife who can cook (why else would he leave her for a chef?), she will simply go to cooking school. Luckily, class at the renowned Saint Honoré School of Culinary Arts in France starts in just four days!

However, Mebel quickly realizes that her culinary school is not in illustrious Paris but rather in England—and some small village outside of Oxford no less. Despite the less-than-warm welcome from her much younger classmates, Mebel manages to befriend Gemma, the breakout star of the program, who offers to help Mebel on their first day. When Gemma stops showing up to class, Mebel knows she must figure out what—or who—caused her friend’s sudden disappearance. After all, Mebel may not know the first thing about how to cut a potato, but she certainly knows how to identify a fraud, and there’s definitely something fishy going on.

My Opinion: I’m beginning to realize that I enjoy senior characters in a way I never fully appreciated before. There’s a kind of steel in them, a lived in determination you just don’t get from the usual twenty something protagonists who are still trying to figure out how to hold a job and a relationship at the same time. Jesse Q. Sutanto was my gateway into this world with the Vera Wong series, and now, with Ms. Mebel Goes Back to the Chopping Block, she’s doubled down on giving us older women who refuse to fade politely into the background.

And Mebel… well, she’s a force. An absolute delight of a force.

Did I know, in some dusty corner of my brain, that entire generations of women were raised to be trophy wives? Probably. But Sutanto doesn’t just mention it; she shows it. She gives us women who were groomed to orbit men, to shelve their own dreams, to be pleasant, decorative, and quiet. And then she hands us Mebel, who has decided she’s done with all that nonsense.

Watching her step into her own life — loudly, hilariously, sometimes messily — is half the joy of the book. The other half is realizing how much she teaches everyone around her, including the reader. She’s outspoken, stubborn, and unexpectedly vulnerable, and in carving out her own path, she models what it looks like to claim space, to use your voice, and to stop apologizing for existing.

Is “senior coming of age” a genre? If not, it should be, because Mebel fits it perfectly. She’s discovering herself the way a young adult protagonist might, only with decades of baggage and a lifetime of expectations to unpack. This is a found family story, but with a twist: Mebel already had a family; she just didn’t realize how much she’d limited herself. Her new circle of friends cracks open her world, showing her that independence, purpose, and joy aren’t reserved for the young.

What Sutanto delivers is a story about reinvention at any age. About earning your own way. About standing up for what’s right. About realizing that who you were doesn’t have to dictate who you get to be. It’s charming, funny, and quietly radical in the way it insists that older women deserve center stage.

And Mebel, bless her, takes it.

The Book Witch

Title: The Book Witch
Author: Meg Shaffer
Published: April 7, 2026 by Ballantine Books
Format: Kindle, 320 Pages
Genre: Magical Realism

Blurb: Rainy March is a proud third-generation book witch, sworn to defend works of fiction from all foes real and imaginary. With her magical umbrella and feline familiar, she jumps into and out of novels to fix malicious alterations and rogue heroes.

Book witches live by a strict Real people belong in the real word; fictional characters belong in works of fiction…. Do not eat, drink, or sleep inside a fictional world, lest you become part of the story. Falling in love with a fictional character? Don’t even think about it.

Which is why Rainy has been forbidden from seeing the Duke of Chicago, the dashing British detective who stars in her favorite mystery series. If she’s ever caught with him again, she’ll be expelled from her book coven—and forced to give up the magical gifts that are as much a part of her as her own name.

But when her beloved grandfather disappears and a priceless book is stolen, there’s only one person she trusts to help her solve the case: the Duke. Their quest takes them through the worlds of Alice in Wonderland, The Great Gatsby, and other classics that will reveal hidden enemies and long-buried family secrets.

My Opinion: I’m still not entirely sure whether The Book Witch is fantasy, magical realism, or something delightfully in between, but whatever it is, it scratched an itch I didn’t even know I had. It’s that rare reading experience where you close the final page and immediately want to flip back to the beginning, not out of confusion but out of sheer delight. I’m not a re-reader by nature, yet the moment I finished, I had the urge to start again just to catch all the breadcrumbs Meg Shaffer had been scattering while I was blissfully unaware. I absolutely did not see the twist coming, and I love it when a book gets one over on me like that.

From the very first pages, the structure hooked me: a book within a book within a book, each section heading doing quiet, clever work. Shaffer hides the best parts in plain sight, including what amounts to a sly little masterclass on how to write a mystery. She lays out the mechanics so openly that you don’t realize you’ve been handed the blueprint until the reveal snaps everything into place.

This is a story written for book lovers by a booklover. You can feel it in the imagination, the references, the way the narrative wanders through genres like a reader browsing their favorite shelves. It’s one of those novels where you promise yourself, you’ll read “just a couple more pages,” and suddenly you’re ignoring your to do list because you’ve fallen headfirst into someone else’s world.

Every character is memorable—truly memorable—and I already miss them. Their banter is sharp, funny, warm, and full of quotable lines that make you want to dog ear pages or reach for a highlighter. And beyond the mystery, beyond the twists, the book becomes a profound reading experience: a journey through stories we love, the emotions they stir up, and the conversations we have about them. It’s almost like being dropped into a book club tucked inside the narrative, where insights are shared, dots are connected, and perspectives shift in satisfying ways.

Will readers guess the twists early? I hope not. The surprises are the beating heart of this novel, and discovering them exactly when Shaffer wants you to is part of the magic.

When Breath Becomes Air

Title: When Breath Becomes Air
Author: Paul Kalanithi, Lucy Kalanithi
Published: January 12, 2016 by Random House
Format: Kindle, 208 and Pages
Genre: Memoir

Blurb: At the age of thirty-six, on the verge of completing a decade’s worth of training as a neurosurgeon, Paul Kalanithi was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. One day he was a doctor treating the dying, and the next he was a patient struggling to live. And just like that, the future he and his wife had imagined evaporated. When Breath Becomes Air chronicles Kalanithi’s transformation from a naïve medical student “possessed,” as he wrote, “by the question of what, given that all organisms die, makes a virtuous and meaningful life” into a neurosurgeon at Stanford working in the brain, the most critical place for human identity, and finally into a patient and new father confronting his own mortality.

What makes life worth living in the face of death? What do you do when the future, no longer a ladder toward your goals in life, flattens out into a perpetual present? What does it mean to have a child, to nurture a new life as another fades away? These are some of the questions Kalanithi wrestles with in this profoundly moving, exquisitely observed memoir.

Paul Kalanithi died in March 2015, while working on this book, yet his words live on as a guide and a gift to us all. “I began to realize that coming face to face with my own mortality, in a sense, had changed nothing and everything,” he wrote. “Seven words from Samuel Beckett began to repeat in my head: ‘I can’t go on. I’ll go on.’” When Breath Becomes Air is an unforgettable, life-affirming reflection on the challenge of facing death and on the relationship between doctor and patient, from a brilliant writer who became both—now with an epilogue by Lucy Kalanithi.

My Opinion: When Breath Becomes Air is exactly what it promises to be: a memoir written by a dying surgeon who loved learning, but loved language even more. And honestly, thank goodness for the Kindle dictionary, because Paul Kalanithi’s vocabulary is… a lot. You can feel the literature, poetry, and philosophy woven through every page; sometimes beautifully, sometimes in ways that sailed right over my head.

The book is brief, divided into the before, the during, and an epilogue written by his wife, Lucy. It’s emotional without being manipulative, heartfelt without being sentimental, and full of the kinds of messages you don’t realize you need until they’re suddenly sitting in your lap. The clinical precision of a neurosurgeon meets the vulnerability of a man trying to make sense of a life that’s ending far too soon.

I’ll admit, the more academic passages weren’t for me. But when Paul writes about his patients, his colleagues, his wife, his daughter, those moments glow. That’s where the book truly breathes. You can feel the love, the fear, the clarity, the tenderness. You can feel the man.

And yes, I know memoirs often give us the polished pieces and cast off the parts the writer wants to leave behind. I’m sure there were darker moments—anger, doubt, frustration—that didn’t make it onto the page. But if Paul chose to leave us with grace, curiosity, and a sense of a life well lived, even if cut short, I’m willing to take that as the legacy he intended.