Natasha Lester
- Coming of Age
- The Illusion and Reality of Hollywood
- Power
- Ambition
- Identity
- Reinvention
Book reviews of ARCs and past releases
Natasha Lester
Paul Rudnick
Rating: ⭐⭐ ½
Genre: Mystery Thriller + LGBTQ+
I chose The Tuxedo Society from NetGalley expecting it to be a fun, campy queer spy adventure, and to be fair, it is all that, but just not the way I was hoping it would be. The premise sounds great with a secret society of queer spies who operate with all the glamour, wit, and high-stakes missions. The concept is a mixture of espionage and comedy. I think it is a strong concept, but the execution feels uneven.
It is safe to say that the biggest strength of the book is its humor when it is relevant to the situation. There are genuinely funny moments scattered throughout, with witty dialogue and absurd situations that fully embrace the ridiculousness of the premise. The writing is obviously leaning heavily into satire—not taking itself seriously.
The book has an extremely campy tone, which can be a hit or a miss depending on your taste. The plot can be over the top and at times lean towards absurdity, which is all intentional. So, in other words, the story requires a complete suspension of disbelief. Don’t expect grounded storytelling here.
The pace is very fast, and you will find characters jumping from one mission to another before you can blink your eyes. I think readers who enjoy fast-paced stories might appreciate that, but I personally felt things were a bit messy, chaotic, and at times difficult to follow. I felt overwhelmed quite often and had to question why things were all over the place.
In terms of the characters, strangely, the main character felt underdeveloped. A few of the secondary ones felt more interesting to me than the protagonist. I just wish the author had invested more in building these characters. The reliance on gay stereotypes didn’t help the story, and I feel it backfired. There is also a heavy dose of pop culture references, which can get exhausting if you are not into that.
In the end, this is one of those books that will strongly depend on your tolerance for absurdity. For me, it lands somewhere in the middle: entertaining but messy, funny but inconsistent. A 2.5-star read feels right—it’s not bad, but it never quite comes together into something truly satisfying. If you’re in the mood for something loud, chaotic, and unserious, it might work for you. Otherwise, this could be a frustrating ride.
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of this book.
Key Themes
Kristin Hannah
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Historical Fiction
This is the third book I have read by Kristin Hannah. The Nightingale was a book I really enjoyed. The Great Alone is one of those books that just pulls you from the first page. It is intense and very emotional. The story is set in 1970s Alaska, with Alaska’s atmosphere acting not only as a background but also as a character that plays a dangerous role in shaping the destiny of the Allbright family.
The story is told from Leni Allbright’s perspective in a third-person narration style. Leni is a teenage girl trying to survive as her father, Ernt, starts to unravel. He is not psychologically stable due to being a Vietnam War veteran. Her mother, Cora, is deeply devoted to her dad in an unhealthy way. When the family moves to Alaska for a fresh start, they are faced by many challenges, and the isolation there somehow makes them closer.
For me, the book really shines with its atmosphere. The author makes you feel the cold, isolation, and the endless darkness. It is all quiet, and both beauty and threat coexist! It is as if the land is there to teach them a lot and get them ready for more resilience, adaptability, and perhaps a little more stubbornness.
The book spans from 1974 to 1986, and through these years, we experience Leni’s growth, which is again one of the strongest points of the book. We see how she transforms from a sheltered and hopeful character into a more self-aware person who is also more resilient to her surroundings.
I can’t help but say that at times the book could be emotionally exhausting—especially the cycles that the father goes through. Vietnam War veterans being unstable and going through difficulties and sufferings is a trope that gets on my nerves. I’m done feeling sorry for aggressors! Crocodile tears do not work on me anymore. If we need to talk about something more and tell stories, they should be about the suffering of those families in Vietnam who had to go through the atrocities caused by these aggressors!
The second half depended a bit more on melodrama. That did not ruin the book for me, but it was enough to make me notice. I liked the first half much more, as the earlier chapters felt more grounded and less over-the-top.
Regardless of the cons, The Great Alone was still a solid read for me. I just loved the author’s writing, and if you ask me about the strongest character in the book, it will definitely be Alaska’s atmosphere. I give it a solid 4-star rating.
Jillian Cantor
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐ ½
Genre: Contemporary Fiction
The May House by Jillian Cantor follows three sisters (Julia, Emily, and Nora) who reunite for one week at their family home every May to spend time together. This was a promise they made to their grandmother in order to inherit the beach house there. One year, Julia doesn’t show up, so the story takes off from there, alternating between present and past.
The concept is really strong and quite engaging. The idea of three estranged sisters coming back together in a place loaded with emotional history has a lot of weight to it, and the novel taps into that well. There’s a constant sense that the house holds more than just memories, and I felt that there is some kind of underlying mystery that helps carry the narrative forward.
One of my favorite things about the book is the relationship between the sisters. It felt real to me—messy in a believable way, not overly dramatic but still emotional. Each sister has her own personality and baggage, and you can really feel that in how they interact. The story switches between their perspectives (in third person), which worked well in showing how differently they see the same past. As their history slowly comes out, their bond feels more layered, and some of their conversations are very relevant.
The author did a great job with the atmosphere of the book. It is excellent throughout. The setting of the May house has its own mood with an almost cozy but at the same time mysterious backdrop, which helps a lot in enhancing the emotional tone of the story. There’s a quiet intensity to the writing that keeps you immersed, even in slower moments.
Now, for what didn’t work for me—I think the main problem was with the non-linear timeline. There is a lot of back-and-forth between different points in time, which felt scattered and, at times, confusing. I have no idea why the author chose this method instead of the simple present and past periods. This sometimes made it harder to stay oriented within the story.
Overall, the book is still worth reading, so I’m giving it a solid 3.5 stars. The concept is compelling, the sisters’ relationship is well developed, and the atmosphere is a real strength. But the disjointed timeline holds it back from being as impactful as it could have been.
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of this book.
Key Themes
Kyle McCarthy
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Literary Fiction
Immersions is the story of two sisters, narrated from the younger’s point of view. Frances’s older sister, Charley, was a superstar dancer, while she herself was still a rising dancer. One day, Charley marries Johnny and decides to leave the limelight, joining a convent, which will be a big shock to her fans and family. Now Frances wants to know why all this happened, suspecting Johnny to have a hand in it.
McCarthy’s prose is undeniably striking. It’s lyrical, sure, but there’s a fragility to it, like every sentence was handled with tweezers. When she’s describing the specific, hollow ache of living between two cultures or that weirdly intense intimacy you only find in your twenties, it’s genuinely beautiful. It forces you to slow down. That said, I did find the polish a bit much at times. There are moments where the writing feels a little too aware of its own beauty, which can pull you out of the story.
The core concept carries a lot of weight. Even when the plot feels like it’s standing still, there’s this low-frequency hum of tension between the two women. McCarthy really gets that uncomfortable overlap of admiration and quiet resentment. It feels honest. It’s the kind of psychological friction that anyone who’s had a "best friend" they also kind of hated will recognize.
But I’ll be honest here, the narration was a struggle for me. It’s reflective and fragmented, which makes sense if you're trying to mirror a drifting headspace, but it creates a massive amount of distance. I felt like I was looking at these events through several layers of tinted glass. Everything has already been filtered, processed, and tucked away by the narrator before we even get there. It’s a deliberate choice, I’m sure, but I feel the style of the narration, where the character keeps addressing me as her sister, is what kept throwing me out of the story rather than keeping me inside it. Sorry, Francess, I’m not your sister!
Naturally, this means the pacing isn’t exactly brisk. The novel tends to circle around a mood rather than moving forward. If you’re the type of reader who loves to just inhabit an atmosphere and doesn't care about "what happens next," you’ll probably find this deeply rewarding. For me, I kept waiting for a bit more urgency. There’s only so much atmospheric lingering I can do before I start checking my watch.
Ultimately, Immersions is a thoughtful, layered piece of work. It treats its themes of identity and memory with a lot of respect. But for all its beauty, the book stayed just slightly out of reach for me. It felt a bit like overhearing a fascinating conversation from the next room—you catch the tone and the occasional brilliant phrase, but you never quite feel like you’re part of it.
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of this book.
Key Themes
Marcus Kliewer
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Horror
Summary
Macy Mullins is twenty-two years old and already worn thin by responsibility. She’s scraping by, trying to keep herself and her younger sister afloat, and when a Craigslist ad promises good pay for just three days of caretaking, it feels almost too convenient. The house is quiet in that way, isolated homes often are. The kind of quiet that doesn’t relax you so much as press in on your ears. Grace Carnswel greets her politely enough, but something about the setup feels… off. Not dramatically so. Just slightly misaligned, like a picture frame hanging crooked on the wall.
What begins as a simple caretaking gig slowly tilts into something larger and stranger. Macy finds herself caught between skepticism and instinct. Is this a grieving man constructing meaning out of tragedy? Or is there, in fact, something ancient pushing at the edges of the property? By the time answers begin to surface, the story has widened beyond one household. The stakes feel less domestic and more existential, though the emotional core—loss, guilt, fear—never fully disappears.
Characters
Macy is easy to invest in. She isn’t written as a horror-hero archetype, charging into danger without a thought, nor is she paralyzed by fear. Her choices may make sense or not. You can see how financial pressure nudges her to stay longer than she probably should. Her protectiveness toward her sister adds weight to her decisions; she’s not just risking herself. That said, there are moments when her internal world seems to take a backseat to the mounting tension. I occasionally wanted to linger with her doubts a little longer, to sit inside her emotional conflict rather than rush toward the next revelation.
David, on the other hand, may be the book’s most compelling presence. His grief over his son Caleb hangs over everything. Whether the rites are acts of devotion or delusion remains frustratingly unclear, in a good way. He’s pitiable and unsettling at the same time, which isn’t easy to pull off. Grace and the supporting cast function well within the framework of the story, though they don’t quite break free of it. They feel purposeful rather than fully dimensional. That’s not necessarily a flaw, but it does keep the character work from reaching something deeper or more transformative.
Writing Style
Kliewer’s prose is clean and controlled, leaning heavily on atmosphere. Descriptions of the setting grow more vivid as the danger escalates, though the writing rarely calls attention to itself. Dialogue flows naturally. The pacing, especially in the first half, is tight. If anything, the restraint in the prose may contribute to the feeling that some emotional beats pass a bit too quickly. The chapters are fairly short, making the reading feel fast.
Final Thoughts
Having read and loved the author’s previous book, “We Used to Live Here," I’m giving this one three stars. The Caretaker sits comfortably in the “Just Okay” category. The premise is strong, and the opening chapters genuinely pulled me in. There’s an effective slow-burn quality that keeps you turning pages, even when very little is overtly happening.
Still, it doesn’t quite reach the depth it seems poised to achieve. The buildup is slow, and that’s okay, but it feels just too carefully layered, and the climax feels slightly compressed by comparison. A few character arcs might have benefited from more space to breathe. Even so, there are flashes here and there that might linger afterward. It’s unsettling in patches, maybe memorable in moments.
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of this book.
Mallory Kass
Natasha Lester Rating: ⭐⭐⭐ Genre: Historical Fiction The story in The Chateau on Sunset follows Aria, a young woman with a troubled past w...