I Think I Might Love You. Christina C. Jones. 2019. 130 pages. [Source: Kindle Unlimited.] I haven’t enjoyed a book quite the way I enjoyed I think I Might Love You in a while. I mean put the Kindle down, guffaw, and wipe tears from my eyes laughing. This book is so fun and so real. I Think I Might Love You doesn’t start off like you’d think a romance would. Jaclyn, a bit tipsy, strolls into her sister’s apartment only wanting some good ice cream to ease the pain of finding out her boyfriend has a whole wife and family he’s been hiding. She finds the ice cream, but also finds a naked dude in the kitchen. She punches him and locks herself in the bedroom, only to wonder where the hell her sister is. She later finds out Kadan is actually a legitimate subletter … awkward. That’s just the first of many awkward and uncomfortable — if not completely hilarious — interactions between the two. Their “courtship” is anything but. I mean, she intended to use him as DoD* and saved him in her phone as “Dicky McStrangerballs.” (Shoutout to Mrs. Jones for that piece of literary excellence…

Living in the Middle. A. Robert Allen. 2019. 247 pages. [Source: ARC provided courtesy of author.] There’s no greater challenge than finding the balance between how you see yourself and how others see you. Living in the Middle effectively conveys the notion of identity being fluid and the impact of external forces. I found the opening chapter to be confusing and difficult to understand prior to the introduction of Jimmy, which made it challenging to get into the book. The historical accuracy of the book throughout is phenomenal, but was presented in a rudimentary manner which makes it better suited for those without extensive knowledge or familiarity with/on the Tulsa Race Riots. Overall, I appreciated this book more for its historical relevance then for its novel components – the romantic relationship between Mercy and Jimmy was irrelevant, as were the Grimes/Glax interactions. I often found the dialogues to be strained and unbelievable. Sadly, the parts I loved most were the parts that were the quickest to read, leaving me hungry for more. The build up to the actual insurgence, the day of, and the immediate aftermath could’ve easily been more than half of the book. Three stars for Living in…

The Perfect Family. Samantha King. 2018. Kensington Books. 304 pages. [Source: ARC provided courtesy of NetGalley]. The Perfect Family is not what it seems, both the book and its main characters. It starts by describing the aftermath of any parents’ nightmare — being asked to choose which of your children will live or die. For Maddie, it’s being asked which of her twins will be spared by a masked man who shows up at her door. The shock of her daughter’s death leaves her mute, but her mind is active in reflecting about the day tragedy struck and her motive for her choice. Overall, this is an emotionally jarring read — the tension and anxiety were near constant. As you get to see what lies under the surface of Dom and Maddie’s marriage, you learn to take everything else with a grain (or pound) of salt. Through her reflections, you see Maddie struggling to keep from spiraling as she questions herself as a mother, but also no longer understanding what she takes for granted as truth. I compliment King because she was able to evoke emotions in me that made me need to know what happened next so I could…

 The Woman in the Window. A.J. Finn. 2018. 448 pages. William Morrow. [Source: Public Library.] I picked up The Woman in the Window mostly on a whim. My local library has a program titled “My Lucky Day,” which features new and/or trending titles. They’re given placement right in the center of attention — at the checkout desk so you can’t miss them. The catch? You only get them for 2 weeks, no renewals, and a $1 a day fine. It’s a brilliant program, and I’ve experienced some pretty good reads through their selections. Reading this book will immediately bring to mind Alfred Hitchcock’s classic film Rear Window.  I suspect the these similarities are, in part, intentional.  Throughout the book, I felt like I was reading a book that borrowed slivers from the most successful in the classic suspense genre. And it works in setting a tone in which you know better than to accept everything at face value. Anna Fox lives a largely solitary life. A psychologist suffering from agoraphobia, she spends much of her time essentially spying on her neighbors in her upscale New York neighborhood.  The monotony is broken by the conversations with her husband and daughter, and occasional…

My Sister, the Serial Killer. Oyinkan Braithwaite. 2018. Doubleday. 240 pages. [Source: public library.] Older siblings are often like surrogate parents to their younger brothers and sisters. They leverage their wisdom and experience to help the younger ones navigate life. Or get away with murder. In My Sister, the Serial Killer, Korede has the misfortune of being the only person her younger sister Ayoola calls when one of her boyfriends has the misfortune of encountering her late father’s prized knife. I suppose the third time is a charm, because that’s what turned her into the textbook serial killer. Korede, with her meticulous attention to detail, has proven herself a worthy accomplice, shielding Ayoola from the consequences of her actions. Ayoola is, by all accounts, the more beautiful and beguiling sister. I read her as flighty and self-centered, and prone to ignoring the perceptions about her behavior, especially as she “mourns” her missing boyfriend. Ayoola, for all her naivete, is also cunning. She uses her charisma to endear herself to people, but her ability to manipulate everyone around her to protect her demonstrates that she’s not the beautiful fool she seems. I found myself very early on not trusting her, straddling a very thin line…