Readers will be drawn to this book by its inviting cover. They will stay to read the story.
Estee Lauder became one of the best known women in the cosmetics industry. Now her name is attached to companies, charities, exhibits and more. Once, though, she was a woman trying to find her way.
As this story opens Estee is selling face creams and treatments out of a not very deluxe beauty parlor. Readers learn that she is the main support of her husband and young son, Leon. Estee is fortunate to have ambition and a strong belief in her self and her products. She will need those qualities.
At this salon, Estee meets a young woman who is down on her luck. Gloria has a father who committed the sorts of crimes that nowadays we would associate with someone like Madoff. Her difficulties and bad publicity cause Gloria to take on this new name. She also has to navigate so much more than she was raised to do in her life of wealth and elegance. Horrors! The first job of this formerly wealthy woman is as a shampoo girl.
This story about Estee is told through Gloria’s eyes. It is also the story of Gloria. Read along as these two women find their way in 20th century America.
This book is recommended to readers of both historical and women’s fiction. It is definitely worth a look to see how the real Estee and fictional Gloria are entwined and help one another.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Berkley Publishing for this title. All opinions are my own.
One broken family. Two hearts meeting. Dozens of naughty animals!
by Carole Matthews
#HappinessForBeginners #NetGalley
Carole Matthews is one of those authors, like Jill Mansell, who can be counted upon for a fun, light read. In this novel, readers meet (and will like) Molly. She runs a farm with animals whose names I will not give away. The farm is a bit special as it serves as an alternative school. When a new, tricky student, and his father arrive, the stage is set for the rest of the story. Readers will turn the pages in this relaxing novel.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Little Brown Group UK for this title. All opinions are my own.
Josie Silver has a knack for writing contemporary women’s fiction that has both humor and heart. In this novel, those talents are showcased once again.
Ms. Silver sets up her story nicely. Both Cleo and Mack come on a visit to a very small island that has few tourist accommodations. Through an error, each is booked into the very same one room cottage. Neither wants to be the one to compromise or leave and, even if one would, the boats come to the island only weekly. Even worse, someone thought it was a honeymoon that was the reason for the booking. How will these characters work things out? What will evolve in their relationship?
So, the people:
Cleo is about to turn thirty. She is a dating columnist whose love life has not gone to plan. Her editor sends her to the island to make a commitment to herself in a ceremony similar to a marriage. (very Gwyneth Paltrow seeming). Cleo, over the course of the novel, will begin to sort out her future as will Mack.
Mack thinks that he was given the cabin to visit by a relative. He is a photographer who is separated from his wife but not by his choice. Mack has two sons whom he dearly loves. He is looking for some peace and a chance to think about what comes next He has traveled all the way from Boston to do this.
These characters are surrounded by other islanders. They are also in a beautiful locale.
One thing that I liked in the book was the author having each character tell the other three important things most days. Not a bad idea for any couple. There was also some humor and ingenuity around sharing the cabin.
Overall, I liked this novel. It did feel just a bit slow to me at times, however.
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher. All opinions are my own.
Amber and Danielle Brown both graduated from Rider University where they studied Communications/Journalism and sat on the editorial staff for the On Fire!! literary journal. They then pursued a career in fashion and spent five years in NYC working their way up, eventually managing their own popular fashion and lifestyle blog. Amber is also a screenwriter, so they live in LA, which works out perfectly so Danielle can spoil her plant babies with copious amount of sunshine.
Book Summary:
Brandi Maxwell is living the dream as an intern at prestigious New York fashion house Simon Van Doren. Except “living the dream” looks more like scrubbing puke from couture dresses worn by hard-partying models and putting up with microaggressions from her white colleagues. Still, she can’t help but fangirl over Simon’s it-girl daughter, Taylor. Until one night, at a glamorous Van Doren party, when Brandi overhears something she shouldn’t have, and her fate becomes dangerously intertwined Taylor’s.
Model and influencer Taylor Van Doren has everything…and is this close to losing it all. Her fashion mogul father will donate her inheritance to charity if she fails her next drug test, and he’s about to marry someone nearly as young as Taylor, further threatening her stake in the family fortune. But Taylor deserves the money that’s rightfully hers. And she’ll go to any lengths to get it, even if that means sacrificing her famous father in the process.
All she needs is the perfect person to take the fall…
A December LibraryReads Pick
Readers Digest Online, 27 Best Mystery Books You Won’t Be Able to Put Down
“will have you turning pages as fast as you can….With biting social commentary and critiques of capitalism and privilege, this juicy, intelligent novel is utterly compelling.” –Readers Digest Online, 27 Best Mystery Books You Won’t Be Able to Put Down
“Inspired by their time in the New York fashion scene, influencers Amber and Danielle Brown have crafted a taut and sexy debut thriller about a young Black woman struggling to make it in that cutthroat industry….Fresh dialogue, extravagant parties, and an inside view of the glamorous lives of the filthy rich grab the reader’s attention from start to finish.” –BOOKLIST
“Sister team Amber and Danielle Brown bring their own experiences of the fashion industry into this fast-paced and intriguing thriller.… Brandi is a well-developed protagonist who will be admired for her resolve and ambition….Fans of Alyssa Cole and Zakiya Dalila Harris, whose characters navigate the issues women of color face in the workplace, and of psychological thrillers like Paula Hawkins’s The Girl on the Train will enjoy this one.” –LIBRARY JOURNAL
“A disturbing peek into the world of privilege. Someone Had to Do It is a tense page-turner that had me yelling out loud at the characters.”
-Lucinda Berry, bestselling author of The Best of Friends and The Perfect Child
“Someone Had to Do It has everything. A dark and riveting page turner that has the allure of pulling off the perfect crime with an intelligent twist.”
—Nadine Matheson, author of THE JIGSAW MAN and THE BINDING ROOM
“Amber and Danielle Brown’s debut is a juicy, brilliant treat of a thriller that combines sexy fashion-world glamour with salient points about privilege, racism, and the corrosive effects of extreme wealth. Somehow, Someone Had to Do It manages to be both a scathing critique of our late-stage capitalist hellscape, and the perfect mental escape from it. I couldn’t put it down!”
–Layne Fargo, author of They Never Learn
Try it:
BRANDI
I had a ton of illusions, vivid fantasies of what it would be like to score a coveted internship at Van Doren. Deluded old me thought I would be strutting around the stunning tri-story headquarters in single-soled heels, flitting from design concept meetings to on-location photo shoots, living my best fashion-girl life. Instead, I’m in the back corner of the two-thousand-square-foot ready-to-wear samples closet scrubbing fresh vomit from a slinky gown worth double my rent during my lunch hour.
Italian Vogue’s current cover girl borrowed the hand-sewn dress for a red-carpet event last night, and apparently getting it back on a rack without ruining it was too much for one of the other interns to handle. She was so hungover when she came to the office this morning that she vomited all over the dress before making it out of the elevator. But of course this dress needs to be ready for another model to wear to some big extravaganza tonight, and since I’m the designated fuckover intern, I have to clean it by hand because the satin-blend fabric is too delicate to be dry-cleaned.
This is what it takes.
I chant this to remind myself why I’m here as the lactic acid builds up in my biceps. Working for Van Doren has been on my proverbial vision board ever since I reluctantly gave up the idea, in middle school, that I could be Beyoncé. It’s a storm of hauling hundreds of pounds of runway samples around the city and sitting in on meetings with the sketch artists. A glorious, next-to-holy experience when I’m on duty at photo shoots and one of the stylists sends me to fetch another blazer, not a specific blazer, which means I get to use my own vestiary inclinations to make the selection. Which has only happened once, but still.
Just as I get the stain faded by at least seventy percent, I hear the sharp staccato of someone in stilettos approaching. I turn around and see Lexi. Lexi with her bimonthly touched-up white-blond hair and generous lip filler that she’ll never admit to having injected. When she steps closer in her head-to-toe Reformation, I am grateful that I remembered to put on a few sprays of my Gypsy Water perfume. The one that smells like rich people. But the way she’s staring at me right now, it’s clear that no matter how much I try, I am still not on her level. I do not fit in here. She does not see me as her equal, despite the fact that we are both unpaid, unknown, disposable interns. It’s become glaringly obvious that at Van Doren, it’s not actually about what you contribute, but more about how blue your blood is. Lexi doesn’t even know my name, though I’ve been here a solid nine weeks and I’m pretty sure I’ve told her at least a dozen times.
I’m already on edge because of my assignment, so I jump in before she can ask in her monotone voice. “Brandi.”
“Right,” she says, like she does every time yet still forgets. “Chloé wants the Instagram analytics report for last week. She said she asked you to put it together an hour ago.”
Which is true, but completely unfair since Jenna from marketing also asked me to run to Starbucks to buy thirty-one-ounce cups of liquid crack for her and her entire department for a 9:00 a.m. meeting, an effort that took three trips total, and technically I’m still working on the data sheets I promised Eric from product development. Not to mention the obvious: getting rid of the puke from the dress.
“I’m still working on it,” I tell her.
Lexi stares at me, her overly filled brows lifted, as if she’s waiting for the rest of my excuse. I understand her, but also I’m wondering how she still hasn’t realized this is not a case of Resting Bitch Face I have going on, that I am actually intolerant of her nagging.
Normally, I am not this terse. But nothing about today has been normal. Since this week is my period week, I’m retaining water in the most unflattering of places and the pencil dress I’m wearing has been cutting off the circulation in my thighs for the past couple of hours, and being that I’ve spent most of my break destroying the evidence of someone else’s bad decisions, it is not my fault that I’m not handling this particularly well.
“I’ll send it over as soon as I’m done,” I say to Lexi so she can leave. But she doesn’t.
“HR wants to see you,” she says with what looks like a smirk.
My mouth opens. I have no idea what HR could want, and although I’m still new to this employee thing, I know this can’t be good.
“Like, now,” Lexi barks and pivots away in her strappy, open-toe stilts.
I hang the sample next to the door, and before I leave the room I pause to briefly take in the rest of the dresses stuffed on the racks, each one in that chic, elevated aesthetic that is the cornerstone of Van Doren. This is my favorite part of the day, the chaotic nature of this room a little overwhelming but also inspiring, and I can’t wait for the day that this is my world, not just one I’m peeking my head into. A world in which I command respect.
I cross through the merchandising department, where everyone has their own private office with aerial views of Hell’s Kitchen, Soho and the Garment District, and then move through the maze of the sprawling suite in a mild sort of panic until I remind myself that I have done nothing wrong. Ever since spring semester ended, I’ve been putting in more hours than the sun. I slip in at six-thirty when the building is dark and vaguely ominous, my eyes still puffy with sleep, and when I finally drag myself into the elevator at the end of the day, it’s just as black and quiet outside. I religiously show up in current-season heels despite the blisters, albeit mass-produced renditions of the Fendi, Balenciaga and Bottega Venetas the other summer interns casually strut around in, and mostly stick to myself. I am careful about raising my voice, even if I vehemently disagree with my neurotic supervisor. I keep my tongue as puritanical as a nun’s, even when fucking incel or coddled narcissistic bitch are on the tip of it. I’m not rude or combative. I stay away from gossip. I complete all my tasks with time to spare, which is usually when I check Twitter and help out some of the other interns, even though I’d rather FaceTime Nate in the upstairs bathroom with the magical lighting. I even entertain the gang of sartorially inclined Amy Coopers in the making who insist on obnoxiously complaining to me about all of their first-world, one-percenter problems. I’ve done nothing but consistently given them reasons to think I am a capable, qualified, talented intern who would make an exceptional employee.
I have nothing to worry about.
When I knock on the door to Lauren’s office, she looks up from her desk and waves me in through the glass. I have a feeling this will not go my way when I see that my supervisor, Chloé, one of the more amiable assistants, is also here, fiddling with her six-carat engagement ring in the corner and avoiding eye contact.
“Have a seat, Brandi,” Lauren says, and I tell myself to ignore that her bright pink lipstick extends above her lip on one side.
There is no small talk. No hello or how’s it going? Under alternate circumstances, I would feel slighted, but because I’m growing more anxious by the second, I’m grateful for her smugness.
As I sit down, Chloé shifts in her chair, and I speak before she can. “I’m sorry. The Instagram report is at the top of my task list. I’ll definitely have it to you before I leave today. I just—”
“That’s not why you’re here, Brandi,” Lauren interjects.
“Oh.” I pause, and as she glances down at her notes, I try to make meaningful eye contact with my supervisor, but she is still actively dodging my eyes.
Lauren begins by throwing out a few compliments. My work ethic is admirable and I have great attention to detail, she says, and the whole time my heart is pounding so loud, I can barely make out most of her words. Chloé jumps in to effusively agree, then Lauren finally stops beating around the bush and looks me directly in the eyes.
“We just don’t feel like you’re fitting into the culture here at Van Doren.”
Every word feels like a backhanded slap across the face, the kind that twists your neck and makes the world go still and white for a few disconcerting moments, like an orgasm but not like an orgasm. It’s obvious what they mean, yet can’t quite bring themselves to say.
They just don’t like that I’m black.
They don’t like the way I wear my braids—long and unapologetic, grazing my hips like a Nubian mermaid.
They don’t like that I’m not the smile-and-nod type, willing to assimilate to their idea of what I should be, how I should act.
Culture.
That’s their code for we-can’t-handle-your-individuality-but-since-we-don’t-want-to-seem-racist-we’ll-invent-this-little-loophole.
Black plus exceptional equals threat.
“If we don’t see any improvement in the coming weeks, we’re going to have to let you go,” Lauren says with no irony, her mouth easing into a synthetic smile.
I blink. I cannot believe this is happening right now. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, my internship at Van Doren, the one fashion company whose ethics align with mine. I wasn’t just blowing smoke up Lauren’s ass when I interviewed for this job, though I was looking at her sideways, wondering why she had not a stitch of Van Doren on. I’d splurged on a single-shouldered jumpsuit from this year’s spring collection that I couldn’t really afford just to impress her, while she hadn’t even felt the need to represent the brand at all as she shot out all those futile questions interviewers love propelling at candidates, I’m convinced, just to see them squirm. Even minuscule amounts of power can be dangerous.
This is bullshit, being put on probation, and I’d give anything to have the balls to call them on it. As I sit here paralyzed, Lauren’s words reverberate in my head and I rebuke them, want to suffocate and bury them.
Learn more:
Q&A with Amber and Danielle Brown
Why, out of all genres have you chosen to write thrillers?
Thrillers have always been our favorite genre to watch and read since we were kids. We consume a ton of them, more than any other genre. We noticed that there aren’t a lot of thrillers on the market that actually target our demographic, especially ones written by black people. A lot of the more recent books by black authors seem to be trauma-filled stories, most with a dramatic twist that ultimately deals with racism, which isn’t a criticism, but simply an observation; it‘s rarely simply a fun and exciting story. We just wanted to help fill that gap by writing a fun, sexy, addictive story set in a fun, exciting world, one that would resonate with our generation.
How did you come up with the idea for your novel?
From the start, we really wanted to write a thriller set in the fashion world that was told from the outsider’s point-of-view, because that’s essentially who we were when we worked in fashion. Right away, we had this idea of a deceptively beautiful world filled with deceptively beautiful people that we really wanted to explore. That’s how we came up with Brandi’s character. Taylor’s character was a natural progression—the almost obnoxiously privileged heiress who, from the outside, is exactly where Brandi wants to be.
Haveyou ever actually scared yourself by what you’ve written?
Hm. Not yet, as most of our concepts have been psychological and we generally have a high tolerance for spooky things. But stalking and home invasions are tempting and definitely scary.
What’s the scariest experience you’ve ever had? …wrote about?
The scariest experience we’ve ever had was when we decided to take a Spring Break trip to Milan while we were studying abroad in London. After a disastrous 12-hour journey there—we showed up at the wrong airport and had to book another flight, then got lost in Milan trying to find our tiny hostel on foot because we couldn’t afford a taxi. We finally arrives at the hostel at midnight and were taken up to our room in a rickety, iron-doored elevator like the kind in Titanic, and in the middle of the room there was a toilet and a shower stall. To top it all off, a huge man walks in and approximately two seconds after realizing we—two single young women with no cell phones (couldn’t afford an international plan)—were to share the room with him alone, we risked our lives in that elevator to go back down to the front desk and requested our money back. After placing our accents, the man behind the desk was curious about where we were from and when we mentioned our hometown, he goes, “That’s where I’m from too!” It’s true, Newark, NJ has a healthy Italian population, but it was too Twilight Zone-ish for us and we took the first flight back to London as soon as he gave us our money back.
One of my kids bought a Brompton bike. It took a while to arrive but it was well worth the wait. I was amazed by its incredibly intricate,clever, puzzle like, design. Take a look at the cover to get an idea of what I mean. This bike folds in the most ingenious and useful way.
When the opportunity came to find out more about the company and its bikes, I eagerly requested an e galley. I came away so impressed by what Brompton does, why they do it and how they do it.
The book is divided into three sections; they are Making Bikes, Building a Company, and Changing the World. It was interesting to get insights into the Brompton’s way of making bikes and their mission. They have created a product that lets folks take their bike most anywhere. Surely, as we think about the environment, they are to be applauded for a good contribution to getting places easily and without polluting.
This book will be enjoyed by both bicyclists and environmentalists. Engineers and business students may also find this title to be of interest.
Many thanks to NetGalley and The Experiment for this title. All opinions are my own.
This has to be one of the best mystery/thrillers that I have read this year. Khan does an excellent job of telling a compelling story without shying away from the politics and misunderstandings that seem to be rife these days.
Blackwater Falls is located outside of Denver. Inaya Rahman, a practicing Muslim, is a detective there. She, Lieutenant Waqas Seif, and Catalina Hernandez, all of the Community Response Unit, are faced with a horrific case when a young Muslim woman is found in front of a mosque (I will leave it to readers to find out what was done to her). This leaves a family grieving in a community that has a white supremacists population (among others),and a sheriff who seems to be corrupt. This victim is not the only one as readers learn in this suspenseful read. There is a lot to be sorted before there is any justice.
Khan tells a compelling story. Around this, I loved the insights into the lives of the main characters, especially Inaya. Her mother wants her to marry (she is 29), while her father understands her drive for a career.
Inaya is good at what she does and is principled and courageous. She works with her team (though she has some doubts about her lieutenant) and an outside activist, Areesha Adams to solve the case.
The town of Blackwater Falls comes to life in these pages. There are homes, communities, places of worship and work that are all well depicted.
Readers will care about this story, its events and its characters. Highly recommended!
Publishers Weekly gives this one a star and calls it “stunning.” PW also states, “At once suspenseful, moving, and thought-provoking, this is not to be missed.”I agree.
I earlier read and reviewed A Deadly Divide, a book that was also terrific.
Earlier this year, I reviewed this poet’s books, Life, and Love. Here is another title by this author whose works are written in an easy to read way and yet offer much meaning. In this way, Ashworth reminds me a bit of Mary Oliver.
In this volume, the topic is loss. Facing loss is one of the hardest things that a person can do. Ashworth is a good companion for taking on this complex emotion. Readers will feel both touched and understood as they dip into this gorgeous collection.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Black & White Publishing for this title. All opinions are my own.
Joyce's mystery and fiction book reviews with some non-fiction too! 