For anyone who thinks about the holiday season well in advance, here is a book for you. Instead of the blazing sunshine that I have today, I will think of fireplace warmth as I peruse these recipes.
The chapters are a bit whimsically named. For example, one is title Yummy Stocking Stuffer Sides, while another is Deck the Halls with Sips & Sugar.
The recipes seem easy to follow. The illustrations are inspiring. See for example the Ho, Ho Holiday Appetizer Wreath. For another appetizer, consider Santa Suit Button Mushrooms. Keeping with adorable recipe/illustration, see the one for Rudolph’s Reindeer Burgers. A nice looking dessert is the Joyeux Dark Cherry Clafoutis.
All in all, this cookbook teams up the cute and the tasty. It seems perfect for its audience.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Quarto Publishing Group for this title. All opinions are my own.
Of all of Anne Perry’s series, currently this one featuring Elena Standish is my favorite. For those who don’t know she has also written books about Thomas and Charlotte Pitt and their son Daniel Pitt has his own series. In addition, there are the Monk books, the Christmas novellas, a WWI series and some standalones. Clearly, Ms. Perry is a busy novelist.
The Elena Standish stories take place in the lead up to WWII. The period is well portrayed. Elena has been the subject of four books and, in my opinion, they just keep getting better. Readers will admire Elena. She is brave but that does not mean that she is not scared; this makes her seem quite human.
In this entry, Elena is sent back to Berlin. It is a city where she previously faced great danger so she is aware of the high stakes. Her mission is to extract a scientist who has knowledge of and works in a germ war program. Will she be successful? As this is a series, readers read hoping for the best.
I enjoyed spending time with Elena and those around her. I especially like her paternal grandparents.
It was hard for me to read this novel without thinking about current events. The germ warfare plot may make readers think of Covid. Some of the ways in which Hitler is described will (sadly) remind some of U.S. politicians. I don’t know if this perspective was intentional on the author’s part but perhaps it was.
Those who enjoy books by authors like Susan Elia MacNeal are sure to like the Ella Standish novels. Best read in order but one could dip in anywhere.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Random House Publishing Group-Ballentine for this title. All opinions are my own.
In my opinion, Anna Quindlen is one of the premiere practitioners of the art of deeply felt domestic fiction. In After Annie, she once again goes deep into the heart and soul of a family, one that is facing loss and all that entails.
Annie was a mother to four children, all of whom counted on her, taking her for granted in the ways that children do. Her sudden, seemingly unpreventable death from an aneurysm at a young age, is the catalyst that deeply affects these children, her husband and her best friend.
Readers find out more about Annie as they spend time with those around her. Her daughter, Ali, is forced to grow up, her husband falters, and her best friend faces a renaissance of old issues. Will these folks who were left behind be able to move forward? Will they be okay? How will Annie continue to be a presence in their lives? Find out in this work of literary fiction that is as good as anything the author has written (and that is high praise).
Note: Anyone who has experienced a recent loss may find this book both difficult and worth reading
Many thanks to NetGalley and Random House Publishing Group for this title. All opinions are my own.
Extra credit to you if you know where Wattle Island is. I knew the country but not the location when I picked up this novel. The answer will be in the next paragraphs.
I have been reading a lot of what I would term Australian women’s fiction recently. I do not live in Australia, have only been there once but have enjoyed my many virtual visits this summer. These began when I was reading novels by Sophie Green. Now I have read my first novel by Sandie Docker and I plan to read every one that is available in my country.
I always love books that have a bookish element, as is true here. One of the main characters is named Anne; her name is bookish. Can you guess for which Anne she was named? (GG is my hint). After her parents died, Anne grew up with an aunt on Wattle Island, which is off the Australian mainland. It was a small place and one that she did not choose.
Significant to Anne was her relationship to Tadashi, an artistic soul who was born in Australia. This romance began in the post WWII period. Note that there was much prejudice against the Japanese at the time, regardless of whether a person had been born in Australia. Also important to Anne in the story is her grandson Sam and her great granddaughter.
The other main character is Grace, a librarian. She is facing serious illness. Her own initiative for a work project brings her to Wattle Island. It is here that Anne and Grace meet and the storylines merge.
This book takes place in the present and in that post WWII period. Both are well developed. There are many other characters surrounding Anne and Grace. They add to the story.
I don’t want to say much more so that readers can enjoy this book without spoilers. Suffice it to say that I very much enjoyed this novel and will soon be cracking open another by Ms. Docker.
The question of whether children who come to families in their own ways are truly siblings seems to get a lot of attention. It is not a question that I like. It can feel intrusive and awkward when it is asked to children, as well as to the adults in their lives. The authors of this lovely kids book do a nice job of addressing this topic, especially in the relationship between the two siblings themselves. Hopefully after reading this book, kids will feel empowered and able to address their peers when the topic arises.
I liked this book very much. The only thing I would wish for is a little more. For example, I would have liked to see the dads address someone when asked the question. This could offer good role modeling for the adults who face this question with their kids.
This book should be part of preschool story hours. I hope that it will be found in both school and home libraries.
Many thanks to NetGalley and the American Psychological Association-Magination Press for this title. All opinions are my own.
Inspiring & Empowering Quotes from Global Thought Leaders
by Dana Rubin
#JewishVoices #NetGalley
This collection of thoughtful quotes is organized by topic. A few of these include Art and Culture; Laughter and Tears; Antisemitism and the Holocuast; Family and Home; and more. Each of these sections begins with an orientation to the topic.
The author-compiler’s introduction notes the importance of language and words to the Jewish population across the diaspora. She has chosen quotes from Greek, Latin and Aramaic teachings as well as Yiddish lore. In addition, there are sayings from migration to the Aegean, the Iberian Peninsula, Asia Minor and the Russian steppes. Quotes cover a wide period of years up to the present day.
Readers are also given information on those who are quoted. Some of these authors may be well known, for example there are quotes from Amy Shumer and Ruth Bader Ginsburg while others will be from those not previously known by the reader.
The quotes themselves are plentiful. In addition, the text is accompanied by graphic illustrations.
This book would make a lovely gift or addition to libraries. It would maybe be a nice title to give to someone at the time of the Jewish fall holidays. I hope it will be read by many and will help to open dialogue during fraught political periods.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Quarto Publishing Group for this title. All opinions are my own.
I always am excited when a new novel featuring Vera Stanhope is published. The Dark Wives is classic Ann Cleeves and I think that the author’s fans will be delighted with this book. Any new reader could start here but I think that they will then want to go back to read all of the other titles. (Note too that there is a TV series featuring Vera).
IMPORTANT: Anyone who did not read the last book but is a fan of the series should know that there is a spoiler about Holly. I do not give that away below .
A care home for adolescents who are unable to live elsewhere features in the story. Four young people live there in a place that is profit making. Nonetheless, there are some who seems to care about their charges. A per diem worker named Josh was seemingly well liked and yet he is murdered early in the story. At the same time, Chloe, one of the teens and someone who had a crush on Josh, has gone missing. So…the plot begins.
What led Josh to take this job? Does it tie in to his feelings for an old girlfriend? To his interest in the arts? To something else? What leads to a second murder?There is a lot for Vera and her team, including newbie Rosie, to sort through.
Just a few of the things that I liked about this book were: the settings, the number of characters and their connections, the plot and the concern of the author for young persons in need. This is an atmospheric story that kept me wanting to read more. It is easy to recommend this one.
Many thanks to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for this title. All opinions are my own.
This book just made me smile. I love the colorful and engaging illustrations that feature beloved Sesame Street characters. I like the reminder (for both kids and adults) that there is much to be grateful for.
This book is perfect for any toddler’s bookshelf. They will enjoy the rhyming cadence in the text and seeing characters that they know.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Sourcebooks Kids for this title. All opinions are my own.
This title will surely appeal to those who remember their childhood reads with loving nostalgia. The inspiration is still there as a gift.
The quotes are organized into five sections. These include How to Be Good in the World (for example, kindness); How to Be Joyful in the World (for example, indulgence); How to Be Strong in the World (for example, fear); How to Be at Home in the World (for example, nature); and How to Believe in the World (for example, perseverance). Each short quote left me with something to think about. Note that throughout readers find illustrations as well.
Start with the introduction by R.J. Palacio and then the one by the compilers/editors, and next go where your imagination takes you. Readers will, I think, leave feeling better.
This book would make a most delightful gift.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Algonquin Books for this title. All opinions are my own.
For fans of Before the Coffee Gets Cold and How to Stop Time, a charming novel by TikTok sensation Alex Howard that follows a cat through his nine lives in Edinburgh, moving through the ever-changing city and its inhabitants over centuries.
Early morning, 1902. In a gloomy Edinburgh tenement, Eilidh the charlady tips coal into a fire grate and sets it alight. Overhearing, a cat ambles over to curl up against the welcome heat.
This is to be the cat’s last day on earth. But he is going to return… as The Ghost Cat, a spirit-feline destined to live out his ghostly existence according to the medieval proverb of “The Cat with Nine Lives” – For Three He Plays, For Three He Strays, For Three He Stays.
Follow The Ghost Cat as he witnesses the changes of the next two centuries as he purrs, shuffles and sniffs his way through the fashion, politics and technological advances of the modern era alongside the ever-changing inhabitants of an Edinburgh tenement.
As we follow our new spirit-feline friend, this unique story unearths some startling revelations about the mystery of existence and the human condition and provides a feel-good read full of charm for any fan of history, humour and fur-ridden fun.
The author:
Alex Howard is an author, editor and theatre professional from Edinburgh. His TikTok page, Housedoctoralex, has nearly 300,000 followers and his been featured on television and in the national press. A doctoral graduate of English literature, Alex wrote his first book Library Cat (B&W Publishing) while completing his PhD. It won the People’s Book Prize in 2017, and has been translated into French, Korean and Italian. He also writes poetry, which has been published in New Writing Scotland, Gutter and The London Magazine, among others, and his academic book Larkin’s Travelling Spirit was published in 2021 by Palgrave McMillan.
Try it:
FIRST HAUNTING,
APRIL 1909
On the morning of his first haunting, Grimalkin felt supple and alive; more alive, in fact, than he’d ever felt as a sentient breathing Victorian cat.
He had landed in 1909 with a thump. Rather than having to acclimatize his senses to the eerie, misty environment of Cat-sìth’s waterfall, the transition through time felt immediate, as if he had been dropped from a huge height. Suddenly, he was just there…sitting back on a fine oak table in the bay window of 7/7 Marchmont Crescent. With one turn of the head, he could see the whole street: there were the communal gardens opposite, tucked behind filigreed iron railings and sweeping off to the right as the street disappeared into a tree smudged infinity. It was clearly springtime as the trees opposite were bursting with taut little pods of pink blossom. Glimpsed at intervals along the street, the odd horse and carriage loitered while awaiting the emergence of passengers from tenement doors, their oil-painting-like stillness disturbed only when the horses tugged against the reins or stamped on the cobbles with an irritated clop. Above, purple clouds huddled tightly, their edges yellow where the sun tried its best to pierce through. The cobbles were dark with the wetness of a recent shower. Grimalkin knew these showers well, having often bolted in from the garden when they struck, only to stare longingly out of this very window as the Edinburgh sun burst out again, making steam rise off the carriage tops below. It was a familiar and heart-warming scene; one Grimalkin could happily gaze at for hours in Victorian times, particularly if it was mating season and the pigeons were out on the sandstone sill, cooing and clucking tantalizingly close, almost within swiping distance.
Well, nothing has changed! thought Grimalkin suddenly, with a pang of disappointment. That Cat-sìth charlatan has merely returned me to Victoria’s reign! Why, I have been duped! Ah…ah, ah steady on, wait…
He turned his gaze back into the belly of the room. His eyes widened and his back fur prickled upward in shock. Here, everything was different. In place of the somber damask wallpaper of his Victorian youth, the walls had been painted a pure, apple-green. Rather than great mirrors and huge paintings, little artworks studded the walls in clusters. Most of them appeared to feature the same fairy-like woman in billowing white robes. French? Dutch? Grimalkin wasn’t sure. There was a soft hiss emanating from the room…somewhere on the wall? Somewhere above? Grimalkin’s ears twitched furiously. Yes, there! In the center of the ceiling, the chandelier had been removed. In its place there hung a little brass sconce that breathed out an orangey flame behind a smoked-glass lampshade. Above it, the formerly pristine ceiling rose had turned black with tarry soot and Grimalkin could feel the dryness of the gas-heated air rasp at his throat.
They think they’re being clever, he thought, eyeing the ceiling rose. They will struggle to beat a good coal fire for efficiency and comfort!
Fancy bow-fronted armchairs, settees and cabinets squatted about the floor, upon which books and papers were piled up into dubious little towers. On a side table, a looking glass and moustache comb rested beside an open snuff box. Apart from the flicker of the blue flame, everything was perfectly still as if frozen by some kind of spell.
Humph, apologies Cat-sìth… I see there HAS been a change…
How can so much change in just seven years? Was Eilidh still tending the fires? It made Grimalkin feel eerie looking at it all: this room where he drew his final breaths had become a lens into the future. He was suddenly struck with the sense that this whole business of time travel might turn out to be rather more taxing on his brain than he’d initially thought.
But something else was different—Grimalkin himself. As he stood on the table, his paws perfectly centered, he became suddenly aware of a complete absence of pain. The arthritic throb in his back and legs had vanished. His left rear leg and flank, always a focus of curiosity to Marchmont Crescent’s visitors owing to its bright marmalade hue, had lost its oily aged texture and become velveteen again, like a fox cub’s tail. Down at the point where his paw hinged from the base of his leg, the little bald patch that had so long been the recreation ground for a particularly stubborn army of fleas, was now smooth and itch-free.
Could it be that my ghosting role has rid me of the pestilence? If so, praise be!
Grimalkin rewarded the discovery with a wash. Gazing at the windowpane, he was shocked to discover he couldn’t see his reflection. However, as he rose and arched his back with ease, and felt the springiness of his ears as they pinged up each time he sent a damp paw across them, and glimpsed his perfectly pink toe pads, he could tell he had become young again. He couldn’t see his eyes, but were he able to, he would have guessed that they were no longer rheumy and grayish and that his whiskers were sharp and unjagged again. And he would have been right.
My word, I’m veritably juvenile! he thought, stretching up his tail like a broom handle. A potent, virile pride washed across him: he was a looker again, an Adonis of cats…a youthful, muscular mouser whose iron claw had once commanded the envy and respect of all the cats in the neighborhood. He rose to his paws and turned a large vainglorious circle on the table, his ears pricked up into sharp triangles. He leaped onto the back of an armchair, his supernatural paws making no noise whatsoever as they landed on the polished oak. He felt positively ageless, neither kitten nor adult…with all the vim and energy of the former but with the latter’s acuity of mind.
I feel in the most capital of moods! May I be a spirit-puss FOREVER MORE!
Suddenly a noise. From over his shoulder there came the familiar creak of the living room door lock turning. Grimalkin spun around. A short, narrow-shouldered man entered the room in a silver-swirled Jacquard waistcoat. The man strode over to the bay window as if about to pull open the sashes, before turning back and making a sudden stop in the middle of the room, as if he’d been halted by a police constable. He then proceeded to bounce on the balls of his feet, his hands clenching and unclenching, and his eyes darting around the room frantically. At one point, he appeared to look directly in Grimalkin’s direction, though could see nothing of him of course. What caught Grimalkin’s feline attention most of all, however, was the perfect little mustache that crossed the man’s top lip, its ends waxed up into points, like a mouse’s tail. It seemed to jiggle in perfect time with the man’s nervous energy as he bounced up and down on the spot. Stiffly, the man flopped down on the settee, placing one leg over the other with a dandy-like flourish, the fingers on his right hand patting a little ditty on the settee cushion, in an ongoing attempt to calm himself.
The man of the house? mused Grimalkin, for the man moved with the ease of a gentleman who knows he is unobserved in his own space; a rich man; an entitled man who has the wealth and means to live, by and large, as he pleases…
The man closed his eyes and let out a big sigh through lips circled into an O-shape.
There was a jumpiness to the way he moved around, which, along with his scruffy waistcoat, misaligned collar and limp bow tie, made up the sort of human that would put any cat ill at ease. His fingers were continually tap-tap-tapping, and Grimalkin was convinced he was the type who went about their business far too quickly as if there was a fire around every corner, or a bear careening up the stairwell, or a marauding army of Jacobites about to scale the tenement walls. This behavior was at odds with Grimalkin’s, who, like all Victorian cats, knew a thing or two about taking his time and tending to his appearance properly. It was like being around a jack-in-the-box… an awful spring-loaded human who could leap and surprise at any moment and positively ruin a good slumber.
I wish he’d bally-well SLOW DOWN. Such unrestful behavior!
It didn’t help matters that there appeared to be something on the man’s mind. Something important.
A thought occurred to Grimalkin. He cannot see me, but I wonder if he can hear me? With that, he opened his mouth and let out a gentle, but concerted purr-mew.
Prrrrrp? Prrrrrrrrrrrrrr—woaw?
But the man did not respond.
Silence briefly filled the space between cat and man as the gentleman took a pipe from his breast pocket. Drumming his fingers, he plucked a tin from a little adjacent table from which he extracted a healthy amount of stringy tobacco and a box of matches. Striking one of the matches, he guided the flame to the two gas lamps that curled out from the mantelpiece like the necks of swans. Blue-yellow flames leaped out from the sconces as the lit match approached, spurting like fiery dragon breath, and reflecting for a moment on the man’s forehead.
“Heavens Archie, man, pull yourself together!” blurted the gentleman to himself, tossing his tobacco box back on the side table. “You’re a publisher, for God’s sake. He should fear you if anything. Just be civil. J. M. Barrie. Humph! So, he’s started doing well for himself. Well, who hasn’t in this day and age? The whole world’s on the make what with motorcars and electric lights and God knows what else! J. M. Barrie? Why, he’s just like everybody else! And I need not fear him; you hear that Archie, ol’ bean? You need not fear him.” The man fell silent for a moment. Grimalkin scrutinized his brow to see if any secrets of his character lurked there.
“Prrrrrpppppppp…” said Grimalkin, this time a little louder. No, he cannot hear me. For three he stays, for three he strays, for three he plays. I am only meant to observe in this age…with no poltergeist capabilities, and perhaps no power to roam beyond this flat either. This gentleman and I shall have to get better acquainted.
Unseen observation felt exciting to Grimalkin: the thrill of the gaze, unthreatened, with the only prospect of pain being that which is emotional, rather than physical…the chance to witness the unvarnished truth of the ages! He wanted to find out what happened and who this J. M. Barrie character was. Evidently, he was a writer of some sort, though not one Grimalkin had ever heard of during Queen Victoria’s reign. There had been piles of books he’d slept on and, occasionally, perused, back in the 19th century; but they had all been written by a certain Robert Louis Stevenson who was preoccupied with lighthouses, or Elizabeth Gaskell, who was obsessed with wizened old clerks and long descriptions of dirty mills that, frankly, made Grimalkin’s whiskers droop.
With a moody burst of energy, the man procured a walking cane from underneath the settee which he used to jab a wooden button, mounted just to the right of the fireplace. On pushing this, a bell chimed down the hall. There followed a padding of feet. And from those feet alone, Grimalkin could tell who was approaching…the mere dance of that noise into his ears made him slowblink in fondness. Eilidh.
The doorknob turned, and in came Eilidh herself, the same boar-bristle brush in her hand, and the same flushed face, like a little rosy moon, under the same white headdress. Unchanged. She smiled and turned to the master.
Well, we all have heard that cats have nine lives but do we really consider that? The author of this book did! Here is the story of a ghost cat who lives out all of its lives over the course of more than 100 years. This leads to much observation on the cat’s part and a good deal of entertainment for the reader.
This book will appear to those who enjoy cats and their points of view, history, Edinburgh and a quirky read.
Joyce's mystery and fiction book reviews with some non-fiction too! 