My Year in Books 2026: March

This post has my mini-reviews of the books I read for pleasure in March (so not including the books I read for review or research). I was actually ill for the entire month, which was horrible, but as you can see, it was the sort of illness where you read a lot, rather than the sort that makes you not want to pick up a book! It was mostly comfort reading though, I have to admit.

In case you're curious, here are my other posts from 2026 so far: January, February

Six Stories by Matt Wesolowski (2016)

I got a really bad cold at the end of February, and I didn’t really feel much like doing anything. I needed a bit of comfort reading, so I went back to a series that I love. I think this is my third time reading it. Six Stories is the first in the series, though it could be read as a standalone (I think they all could, to be honest, though it’s much better to read all of them). The premise of the book is that it follows a podcast – also called Six Stories – in which the presenter, Scott King, takes an old mystery and explores it through six episodes, each of which presents a different perspective on the case. In the first book, the case is the unsolved death of a teenager in the 90s. Tom Jeffries died at an outdoor pursuits centre in 1997, when he was there with a close group of family friends. His death was recorded as misadventure, but Scott King believes there might be more to it, not least because of the creepy local folklore that hints at a supernatural element. Each of the six episodes offers a different angle on the events that led up to Tom’s death, with conflicting accounts revealing a more complicated, human narrative. Yes – there are a couple of elements in the book that don’t quite make sense (maybe should have been caught in editing) but this is a series that I know I will keep going back to.

Hydra by Matt Wesolowski (2017)

Six Stories is the book that sets up the premise of the series, but Hydra is the one where it really comes into its own. I actually originally encountered the series partway through, and then went back to read the earlier ones, but I think Hydra remains my favourite (or one of my favourites). The case in Hydra is a solved one, rather than a mystery as such. In 2014, Arla Macleod killed her family in a notorious crime that led to her being locked up in a secure mental institution. Now, she has decided to speak to Scott King, to explain some of the background as she sees it. As in the previous book, King also speaks to other witnesses or people who were involved to get different perspectives. There’s a bit of inspiration taken from the Elisa Lam case (though it was written before the amazing documentary about her aired), and a bit of inspiration taken from bits of pop culture and online subcultures. It’s an incredibly rich story, told with such heartbreaking sensitivity, and Wesolowski’s ability to write sensitively about ‘troubled’ young people is just a beautiful thing to behold. This is why I love Hydra – the layers of Arla’s character, and the way it has been understood and defined by others, defies a simplistic explanation of why she did what she did. The final revelations are both cruel and tragic, and the ending is one that really sticks in your head (even on the third reading!).

Changeling by Matt Wesolowski (2018)

Changeling continues the Six Stories series, but this time investigating an unsolved case – but another notorious one. In 1988, a child called Alfie Marsden disappeared from his father’s car on Christmas Eve. He was never seen again, despite a national campaign and various high-profile searches. The place where he disappeared was plagued with stories of supernatural phenomena, and King’s investigation into Alfie’s early childhood seems to be haunted around the edges by something unsettlingly folkloric. But it’s also haunted by a suspicion that something wasn’t right with Alfie’s upbringing. Over the years since he vanished, suspicion has constantly fallen on his mother, a woman who was clearly battling with demons, particularly alcoholism. But, of course, the story isn’t quite as simple as that, and Wesolowski explores the complexity of the family with his characteristic nuance and sensitivity. Unlike with Hydra, it’s not so much a real-life case that inspires this one, but rather a real-life phenomenon (I don’t want to give too much away, so ‘phenomenon’ is doing a bit of heavy lifting there) that adds a layer of real tragedy that you might not see coming. Interestingly, I mentioned last month that Cara Hunter’s Close to Home uses a plot twist I’ve seen elsewhere – no spoilers, but this is one of the places where I’d seen it before. However, it’s Changeling not Close to Home that made me cry when it was used. And yes – third time reading it, and third time crying my eyes out at the ending.

Making a Killing by Cara Hunter (2025)

Speaking of Cara Hunter and Close to Home, I took a brief pause from Six Stories to read another of the D.I. Fawley series next. I got this one out of the library and decided to read it right away. It’s actually the most recent book in the series, and it’s a revisiting (in a way) of the first instalment. It was interesting for me, because I’ve been reading the series out of order, to read Making a Killing immediately after reading Close to Home. I’m going to have to be careful here though, as Making a Killing itself contains plenty of spoilers for Close to Home and it’s hard to talk about it without also giving spoilers. Suffice to say, Close to Home was about the disappearance of a child called Daisy Mason in 2016. Making a Killing takes place years later, when evidence at a current murder scene suggests that Fawley and his team might have got something very wrong in the Daisy Mason case. It picks up on an aspect of Close to Home that the reader knows, but the detectives never find out, so we actually start out knowing more than Fawley, which is an interesting introduction. I have to say, this wasn’t my favourite book in the series. I loved the fact that the continuity is perfect, so it reads like an immediate sequel to the first book, but it sadly relies on a trope of detective fiction (no spoilers) than I don’t really like.

The Red House by Roz Watkins (2023)

The next book I read was a library book. And it was another one I chose because the premise looked kinda cool. Joseph Flowers brutally murdered his family when he was just fifteen, leaving only his younger sister Eve alive. Joseph has been in a coma ever since. No one knows why he committed such an atrocious crime, and he isn’t in a position to explain. However, there’s an online rumour that Joseph built a hidden level in a videogame he created that explains everything. As a child, Eve was a terrified witness to her brother’s crime; as an adult, she has to face the fact that she might not know everything. Things come to something of a head when Eve’s grandmother, who’s been Joseph’s constant carer during his vegetative state, dies and leaves Eve as Joseph’s only surviving relative. There’s a real conflict here, as Eve absolutely doesn’t want to be responsible for the man she thinks destroyed her life, but she also can’t help but want to know the full truth of what she witnessed as a child. The set-up – and Eve’s vulnerability, in particular – is really well done, and the video game storyline wasn’t quite what I expected (in a good way). But – oh wow – it’s the ending that’s the real treat. The surprise twist is a thing of beauty, because all the clues are there, all the way through the story, but I still didn’t see it coming in the slightest. I really enjoyed this one.

Beast by Matt Wesolowski (2019)

Back to my reread of Wesolowski’s Six Stories series now, and I’ve reached Beast. In this story, Scott King is invited to investigate the case of a vlogger who died during a terrible snowstorm. The initial enticement to investigate comes from some graffiti reading, ‘Who put Lizzie in the tower?’, which obviously echoes, ‘Who put Bella in the wych elm?’, but the echo turns out to be a bit of a red herring. Three young men were convicted of trapping Lizzie in a tower to freeze to death, but online theories abound about cults and vampires. Not least because the town in which this happened already has a vampire legend. Weaving folkloric ideas of vampires with online challenges – Lizzie was taking part in an allegedly notorious ‘Dead in Six Days’ challenge – Beast presents a slippery story in which culprits and victim alike are hard to pin down. Each testimony gives us a different angle on the main characters, meaning that it’s hard to say what exactly happened, never mind why. This isn’t my favourite book in the series – it doesn’t really hit the way Hydra did for me – but it’s probably the most atmospheric. There’s some great evocations of place in all the Six Stories series, from outward bound centres to hotels to holiday resorts, but the snowbound town of Ergarth is incredibly atmospheric. Every time I read it, I feel like I can picture the locations so vividly, and this really adds to the immersive nature of the storytelling.

Deity by Matt Wesolowski (2020)

Deity is the penultimate book in the Six Stories series, but it’s actually the first one I ever read. I absolutely loved this one when I first read it, and I think it remains one of my favourites in the series. The story involves a disgraced pop star – I don’t think you need too much imagination to work out the inspiration, though it’s by no means a direct correspondence. Zach Crystal was a child star turned megastar turned reclusive millionaire, whose career was dogged by intense fame, obsessive fans and allegations of abuse towards children and vulnerable young people. He had a sprawling forest mansion complete with treehouse where he would invite his ‘special’ fans, but there were also rumours of something more supernatural surrounding the star and his isolated home. Scott King’s investigation uncovers events that seem impossible, considers the power of celebrity to obscure genuine crimes, and brings back a character from an earlier instalment – who we see in a very different light this time. There are a few editing issues with this one, like a character talking about something happening in the 90s when surely that’s too far back in the past, and a little bit of suspension of disbelief is required to accept that we have someone hitting Jackson-like mega-stardom with just two albums, released over a decade apart. But… it’s still an insanely compelling story, and even after however many rereads, I still adore the ending and the explanation of what was really going on.

Demon by Matt Wesolowski (2022)

The final instalment of Six Stories, Demon, is probably the darkest of the series, and I think this comes from the fact that, like all the others, there are echoes of something real here. However, the real-life story that haunts the periphery of Demon is – possibly – just too bleak and dark to be comfortable. The story Scott King investigates in this one is the murder of a vulnerable young child by two other children. There’s no doubt as to their guilt, but – now that they have served their time and been released with new identities – the investigation is about why this happened, rather than identifying different culprits. As in the rest of the series, there’s an incredibly evocative sense of place, hints of something supernatural, and a deeply nuanced exploration of what childhood can look like for vulnerable, neglected and ‘difficult’ children. And while there are undoubtedly echoes of a real-life case, the story is 100% not based on that tragedy. What unfolds, with heartbreaking inevitability, is the story of two children who are alone and find a bond with each other. If you’ve read the rest of the series, it should come as no surprise that Wesolowski entirely rejects the idea that children can be ‘born evil’, but rather pushes at the darker edges of what adverse childhood experiences and trauma can do. It’s not an easy read, and the ending has left me in floods of tears each time I’ve read it. A powerful finale to the series.

In the Dark by Cara Hunter (2018)

I was still ill by the end of the month, so I went back to working my way through Hunter’s D.I. Fawley series (though not in any discernible order). The next one I read was the second in the series. The team are called in when a young woman and her child are found in a basement, held captive, starving and terrified. The woman can’t speak, and the old man, William Harper, who lives in the house claims never to have seen them before but may be suffering from dementia. The case gets more complicated, as the house in which the girl is found is a close neighbour to the home of a missing journalist who disappeared some time ago. The elderly William Harper seems an unlikely suspect, but, of course, he wasn’t always so infirm. Fawley’s team have to dig into his past to find out what sort of man they’re dealing with, now that he’s not able to explain himself clearly. I’m going to be really careful not to give any hint of a spoiler here, but In the Dark is, for me, the outright winner of the ‘things are not what they seem’ prize in the Fawley series. I loved the reveal in this one – though it does use that particular trope that’s used in Making a Killing that I don’t really like – but I can forgive a lot with this one. As a fan of unreliable narrators and narratives, this one was right up my street.

The Busy Body by Kemper Donovan (2024)

The next book I read this month – while still convalescing – was one I picked up while Christmas shopping on a 3-for-2 bundle. I didn’t know anything about it, but I was hoping for a fun, engaging read. And that’s exactly what I got! The main character of The Busy Body is a ghostwriter who is engaged to write the memoir of a former senator and recently defeated presidential candidate, Dorothy Gibson. Dorothy ran as an independent candidate, and is currently holed away at her home in Maine after being blamed for splitting the result and letting a terrible man win. Our unnamed narrator has always been a fan of Dorothy Gibson, so she jumps at the chance to spend time with her and learn more as she writes the memoir, despite being a rather unsociable character. And then – of course – there’s a murder. This is pretty light fare as whodunnits go. It’s not a political thriller or a dark tale of brutal slayings. What we have is a cantankerous ghostwriter, a fiercely intelligent politician, and a hunky bodyguard teaming up to solve a puzzle. There are some neat clues along the way, and a definite debt to Agatha Christie (including one plot device that Christie fans might recognize), but it’s a fun mystery in the proper whodunnit tradition. One of the things I found most interesting was the way the narrator – and, I guess, series detective – remains something of a mystery herself, which is a bit unusual but rather refreshing.

My Year in Books 2026: February

Another post from me with reviews of the books I read for pleasure this month (so this doesn't include books I read for review, for my radio show, or for research). I actually read seven novels this month, though I got onto a bit of a series kick as you'll see!

In case you're curious, here's the other post from this year so far: January. And here are the books I read in February...

Hope to Die by Cara Hunter (2022)

I read a Cara Hunter standalone book last year – Murder in the Family – and really enjoyed it, particularly the way it unfolded through various types of narration, like newspaper articles and podcast transcripts. I saw one of her series detective novels in the library and thought I might give it a go to see if it was like the standalone. It was a bit different, obviously, as there’s a lot of police procedural elements, but I was still hooked. Hope to Die is the sixth book in Hunter’s D.I. Fawley series (and if you’ve read any of my posts before, you’ll know my tendency to read series out of order). The mystery begins when an old couple living in the countryside shoot a burglar, claiming it was self-defence. The burglar turns out to have no ID, and the couple turn out not to be quite who they say they are. The whole thing links up to a high-profile case from the past that may or may not have been a miscarriage of justice. I enjoyed the way the mystery in this one developed, and I also loved the various unreliable narrations with different people describing the same events but in very different ways. I only discovered in the author’s note at the end that the story was inspired by a real-life case, and we’ve since watched a documentary about that case too. This was a great read, and I’m looking forward to catching up with the rest of the series.

The Other People by C.B. Everett (2025)

This next book looked like it was made for me. I got it in a recent Abominable Books box and just started reading it almost right away. One of the characters in the book describes their situation as a cross between an Agatha Christie novel and Saw… so you can see why I thought this was my perfect book. Ten strangers wake up in a house with no memory of why they’re there, how they got there, or where ‘there’ actually is. They are then instructed that a young woman has disappeared, and they have twelve hours to discover what happened to her. And then the crazy violence starts. I loved the set-up to this, and I loved the references to both Golden Age detective fiction and horror cinema. I also liked the meta-narration from (no spoilers) a very different perspective, and the sense that no one is actually who they say they are. The really odd moments of ‘why is this happening?’ were great too, with a nicely off-kilter, horror-flavoured And Then There Were None vibe to it. I loved all of it… until I realized where the story was going. Unfortunately, this one careens towards a really clichéd and annoying explanation that I really don’t like. I won’t say what it is, because if the set-up sounds good and you don’t share my specific pet peeve here, then I think you’ll really like this one. But it was a ‘no’ from me because of the ending, I’m afraid.

All the Rage by Cara Hunter (2019)

I enjoyed Hope to Die so much that, when I took it back to the library, I immediately picked up another book in the series. And I think I enjoyed this one even more! It’s the fourth book in the series – so I am jumping around a bit with it – but that’s not a problem. Although, as I’m discovering, there’s a series arc for the main characters, it’s not one that you need to follow in sequence to enjoy the books. All the Rage begins with a teenage girl being abducted and assaulted, and then being weirdly reticent about talking to the police. But then another girl goes missing, and D.I. Fawley starts to notice something disturbingly familiar in the pattern, far too reminiscent of a traumatic past case of his. I can’t really say anything else about this one, because one of my favourite things about All the Rage is the bait-and-switch aspect, and the fact that we may not be paying attention to exactly what case is actually unfolding. It also has one of the most satisfying clues I’ve read in a detective novel for a while, but if I told you what it was and why I enjoyed it so much, I’d give away way more than I should. I also loved the final explanation, not only of means and motive, but also of methodology (or how the killer managed to fool the police so well). I found it narratively satisfying, a real ‘oh, of course’ moment.

Middle of the Night by Riley Sager (2024)

I’m pretty sure this is the second Riley Sager book that I’ve read. I read – and really enjoyed – The Only One Left back in 2024, so I’m not sure why it took me so long to read another of his books. Middle of the Night has a great premise – when Ethan Marsh was ten, his best friend Billy disappeared one night when they were camping out in the garden. Billy was never found, and his disappearance has never been explained. Thirty years later, Ethan returns to his old neighbourhood – the wonderfully named Hemlock Circle – and his childhood home. He feels like he’s being haunted by Billy in some way, not necessarily a ghost so much as an unresolved story. And it might just involved the creepy, mysterious parapsychology research institute that sits not too far away from Hemlock Circle. I loved this book! The mystery of Billy’s disappearance works really well – including a great ‘oh, of course’ moment at the end (which apparently is what I need from all the books I read this month!). The research institute is nicely atmospheric and bizarre. But all this is tempered by some really human stories, not just about Ethan and Billy, but also the other people they knew in their childhood. The story of Johnny, the older brother of one of Ethan’s friends, and Ragesh is particularly moving. All in all, this is a great thriller-mystery book that flirts with the supernatural but keeps things grounded in the human. A strong recommendation.

The Confessions by Paul Bradley Carr (2025)

This next book came in a book subscription box I tried out for a few months – the End of the World Reading Club. Each box has an apocalyptic or dystopian novel, along with individually wrapped gifts that you open at different points in the book. I actually had two boxes to choose from – as I didn’t open them when they arrived – and I went with The Confessions, because the premise looked really interesting and timely. The book centres around LLIAM, a powerful AI that has taken over almost every aspect of human life. What I found instantly fascinating was that LLIAM isn’t an evil robot overlord, but rather a model that has integrated into people’s lives to the point where they’ve delegated critical thinking (sound familiar?). But… at the start of the book, LLIAM goes offline, throwing the world into chaos. And then people start getting letters, ‘confessions’, containing all the worst things their nearest and dearest have been searching for and sharing with LLIAM. The protagonist of the book is Kaitlin, the CEO of LLIAM’s parent company who has to work out what is going on with LLIAM, whether it can be fixed, and – more importantly – whether it should be fixed. I loved this book. The presentation of AI – even a near-future advanced AI – felt really authentic, and the reveals about who, what and why were very enjoyable. It also had an amazing ‘oh, of course’ moment, which might just have been my favourite one so far this month.

The Second Sight of Zachary Cloudesley by Sean Lusk (2022)

Something a bit different next. This book was a library book, and not really the sort of thing I usually read, but I was – as always – drawn to the cover and the blurb. It’s historical mystery with a little bit of a supernatural flavour, but I think I was mostly drawn to the word ‘automata’ in the description! The titular Zachary is born in eighteenth-century London, the son of a master clockmaker called Abel who has turned his hand to clockwork automata. Zachary has a supernatural – or maybe magical is the better word – gift, as the title suggests. His upbringing is also a little unconventional, due to his father’s grief at his mother’s death. When a serious threat intervenes and separates Zachary from his father, the book becomes more of an adventure story, and also a coming-of-age story for Zachary that will take him far from home into a beguiling but dangerous other world. What I liked about the story was that, while a lot of the characters are undoubtedly ‘larger than life’ (though never to the point of caricature), Lusk is great at balancing this with a very human core. The relationship between Zachary and Abel is very nuanced and complex, at turns touching and frustrating. The later sections are moving, as Zachary travels in the hope of being reunited with his father, but the reader is aware of what has been happening during the intervening years. It’s a readable and engaging story, with plenty of whimsy and charm.

Close to Home by Cara Hunter (2017)

The last book I read this month was another one of Cara Hunter’s D.I. Fawley series. I really am reading this series completely out of sequence, because Close to Home is actually the first one! The case in here is the disappearance of a young girl called Daisy Mason. Daisy vanishes at a family party, and no one claims to know anything about it. Fawley and his team suspect foul play – of course – and suspicion falls on those closest to Daisy, particularly her parents and older brother who are all acting a little odd. As with the other books, I liked the way different perspectives were presented, particularly the way everyone seems to be describing Daisy differently, so we never get a completely concrete picture of what sort of child she was. We start to distrust everyone as it’s impossible for every account to be true at the same time. I will say that I worked this one out a bit easier than the others in the series, though this might be partly because I’m a bit more familiar with the series now so I know what sort of twists to expect. It might also be partly because the solution uses a plot twist I’ve seen in a couple of other bits of detective fiction. It was still a very enjoyable read though, and I really like the way Hunter writes and the storytelling techniques she uses in the books. And I still have more of the series to read!

My Year in Books 2026: January

Another year, another set of blog posts to keep track of the books I read for fun. I'm going to stick with the habit I started in 2018 and do a post each month with the books I read purely for pleasure (so not including the books I read for review, for my radio show, or for research purposes). I'm kicking off with January (obviously), when I read two novels. In my defence though, they were both massive.

Here are the books I read in January...

The Hallmarked Man by Robert Galbraith (2025)

I don’t think this is the first time that I’ve started the year with the latest Strike novel. In fact, I’m sure it’s not. Reading a massive Robert Galbraith tome has become a part of my 12 Days of Christmas now, so even if I get a copy earlier in the year, I save it until the winter. The Hallmarked Man is pretty much what I was hoping it would be, given that I love the rest of the series and have reread them several times (yes, even The Ink Black Heart with all its online chat log formatting!). The mystery plot of this one is fairly typical stuff for the series – a woman approaches Strike and Robin to investigate the disappearance of her boyfriend, who she believes may be the mysterious body recently found in a silver vault. Rather than investigating the disappearance, the duo are focused on identifying the body, running through a number of possibilities, each one resulting in a mini-mystery of its own. As always, there are so many clues, red herrings and impossibilities, but the overall solution is relatively elegant and straightforward (which is what I love most about the Strike series). However, tonally, I felt a bit of a shift with this one. The case itself – for all its Masonic shenanigans – ends up being quite downbeat, and the Strike / Robin storylines just felt rather sad. I wonder if the yearning and will-they-won’t-they is starting to run out of steam now, to be honest.

The Biggerers by Amy Lilwall (2018)

I picked this one up at the library and, as is quite often the case, I chose it after a cursory glance at the blurb. It looked interesting enough, and that’s usually all I need to check something out. I’m very happy with my choice this time, as I really enjoyed this book. The premise of the book is that humans have manufactured miniature humans – known as Littlers – to keep as companions around the house. It’s sort of a dystopian near-future setting, and there’s a bit of exposition at various points about what social and scientific changes led to the creation of Littlers. But, to be honest, the dystopia and the near-futurism are really just a backdrop to a quirky, heart-warming, thought-provoking and very funny story about Bonbon and Jinx, two Littlers who are starting to question whether the world is what they always believed it was. The story unfolds through multiple perspectives and timelines, as it’s not just the Littlers who may have misunderstood. There are also some serious existential questions raised about sentience, selfhood and the ontological status of (apparently) manufactured companions. For me, though, it was Bonbon and Jinx that stole the show. I loved that we got to see parts of the story unfolding from their perspective, and I really enjoyed the way that their characters (and they turn out to be quite different from each other) emerge. This was definitely one of those books that I’m very glad to have accidentally stumbled upon – definitely recommended.

My Year in Books 2025: September

This month's list has a few more books on it than average for this year, mostly because we had a few days away with plenty of opportunity for reading. I read five books for fun this month, and all of them were library books too.

In case you're interested, here are my posts from the rest of the year so far: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August

The Book of the Most Precious Substance by Sara Gran (2022)

This book was a library book that I got out a couple of months ago but didn’t get chance to read at the time. Fortunately, with us having a few days away with no wi-fi (or even electricity), I had the perfect opportunity to catch up with some library books. I chose this one because it has a ‘mysterious lost book’ plot, and that sounded like fun. The book in question is seventeenth century occult text, rumoured to be the most powerful text of its kind. It’s actually – as we quickly discover – a book on sex magic and, as you can imagine, it offers the user unimaginable power but at a sinister price. Antiquarian bookseller Lily finds herself embroiled in a search for one of the (possibly) remaining copies of the book, teaming up with a book collector named Lucas who is both attractive and kind of unsettling at the same time. Together, they travel around various locations, following leads, meeting people who have (or claim to have) tried to use the book, and learning the secrets of sex magic along the way. The story isn’t particularly original, and it treads a lot of the same ground as other stories about apocryphal occult texts (it’s very Ninth Gate in places). But there’s a nice twist with the ‘precious substance’ element, and I really enjoyed the ending, though I suspect that won’t be too everyone’s tastes. Overall, I think I would have liked more sense of peril on the quest though.

The Box in the Woods by Maureen Johnson (2022)

As we were staying in a cabin in the woods, this next one seemed perfect. I haven’t read the Truly Devious trilogy, but the blurb on this one assured me it was a standalone, so I decided to give it a go. And I can confirm that it works as a standalone, and while there are a few references to the preceding trilogy, the book doesn’t suffer from not knowing the details. The story is a YA cold case mystery. Amateur detective Stevie Bell, fresh from having solved the ‘Truly Devious’ case at her high school, is contacted by the owner of Sunny Pines camp. The campsite – formerly known as Camp Wonder Falls – was the site of a grisly crime in 1978, when four counsellors were brutally murdered in what became known as the ‘Box in the Woods’ murders. The case was never solved, but now the site’s new owner wants to make a podcast about the murders to try and finally find the solution. Stevie, along with some of her friends, arrive at Sunny Pines and begin their investigation, in what turns out to be a very engaging and satisfying mystery. I enjoyed the fact that, despite this being a YA with teenaged protagonists, all the older characters felt completely realistic for their respective ages (although I had to do a bit of maths when I started to suspect one character, as I didn’t think he could be the age he’d have to be for it to make sense!).

The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson (2020)

Another library book for our cabin the woods holiday, but something a little different. I was completely hooked on this one from early on. It’s a mind-bendy multiverse story with a really engaging central character, and Johnson’s writing just had me immersed from the first few chapters. Cara – the protagonist – is a ‘traverser’, one of the people who travel between worlds learning about the different iterations of Earth. The one rule of multiverse travel here is that it isn’t possible to traverse a world where another version of you is alive. For this reason, successful traversers are often from poorer backgrounds, as that means their doppelgängers are less likely to have survived to adulthood (one of the really thought-provoking bits of worldbuilding in the book). Cara, who was born in the wastelands, has very few surviving doppelgängers, so she is able to go to a lot of parallel worlds. The story follows Cara’s work for the Eldridge Institute and her prickly relationship with her handler Dell. But there’s a lot more going on than it appears at first glance. I did guess the first big reveal, which comes a few chapters in, but I had no idea where the story was going to go after that. And then one of Cara’s doppelgängers on another world dies in mysterious circumstances, and I really had no idea where the story was going to go! This book is full of surprises, but it’s such a compelling story that I couldn’t put it down.

The Surf House by Lucy Clarke (2025)

Back home again, and another library book. This one was a thriller – marketed as a ‘destination thriller’, which I think means that the setting is one of the main selling points. In this case, the setting is Morocco, partly Marrakesh and partly an isolated little village up the coast from Marrakesh. The protagonist, Bea, is working as a model but walks out on the photoshoot without any real plan as to where she’s going to go or what she’s going to do. When she’s mugged in the street, a woman called Marnie kindly intervenes and offers Bea a place to stay at the eponymous ‘Surf House’, a guest house for… obviously… surfers. Bea settles in well, learning to surf and recovering from both her ordeal in Marrakesh and her unhappiness from her modelling work, although Marnie’s partner Ped is somewhat less welcoming. However, Bea soon discovers that another young woman, Savannah, disappeared from the Surf House the previous year. Savannah’s brother Seth arrives to find out what happened to his sister, and things unravel from there. This was quite an enjoyable read. The baddie is pretty easy to spot, and it’s hard to swallow just how naïve some of the characters are (particularly Bea), but the story unfolds at a good pace with just enough mystery to keep you turning the pages. I also enjoyed the descriptions of Bea learning to surf – and learning to love surfing – as it was surprisingly satisfying to see her character develop in these moments.

Five Bad Deeds by Caz Frear (2023)

And another library book… Five Bad Deeds is a domestic noir, and I picked it up because the premise looked interesting. The protagonist is Ellen, a supposedly ‘good’ wife, mother, neighbour and citizen, who lives in her dream home in a nice little village with her husband, teenage daughter and twin sons. One day, seemingly out of the blue, Ellen gets a letter threatening to expose her for her ‘bad deeds’. Ellen not only has to work out who might have sent the letter, but also what those bad deeds might be. There are some quite nice moments in the book, particularly as it’s clear early on that Ellen isn’t quite as nice or quite as beloved as she believes. However, she isn’t a bad person in the slightest – just a somewhat self-absorbed, mildly thoughtless one. As Ellen reflects on the potential ‘five bad deeds’ that might have led to the sinister letter, we learn a bit more about her relationship with her husband and – more importantly – her daughter Orla. It’s clear that Ellen has made some dodgy choices in the past – and continues to make them in the present – but it’s really hard to see whether that justifies the hatred that drips from the anonymous letter or, as is probably expected, the escalation of the campaign by its sender. Sadly, I’m not sure I completely bought the big reveal in the end, although there were a couple of clues planted earlier in the story. Not a bad read though.

My Year in Books 2025: August

Time for my monthly list of the books I read for pleasure. There are only two books this time, though at least that's more than last month. It's a bit of a mixed bag this month too, as I really enjoyed one of the books, but really didn't like the other one.

In case you're curious, here are the other lists from this year so far: January, February, March, April, May, June, July

Murder in the Family by Cara Hunter (2023)

The first book I read this month was one that I got as my ‘mystery’ book with a recent Abominable Books box. I decided to read it, because it had a cold case mystery theme (and I’m a bit of a sucker for cold case mysteries at the moment). I didn’t look into it more than that before I started reading, so the creative storytelling techniques Hunter uses came as a (nice!) surprise. The story is an investigation into the murder of Luke Ryder twenty years previously. The case is being featured on a true crime show, Infamous, and a team of experts has been assembled to explore the case and offer a possible solution. The narrative unfolds through emails, episode scripts, pieces of evidence and newspaper reports from the time, which definitely appealed to me. As each ‘episode’ of the investigation unfolds, secrets are revealed about the case, but also about the experts who are taking part. It’s not a spoiler to say that each of them has a closer connection to the Luke Ryder case than it initially appears. I really enjoyed the way the story unfolded. There were some good clues, and it was definitely possible to work things out as the plot developed. I did work out the ending – but only in the final part of the book, when something was revealed that made the solution clear. The attention to detail with the ‘evidence’ presented was also really good, making it a nicely immersive reading experience.

The Sentence by Christina Dalcher (2023)

The next book I read was a library book, but sadly this one didn’t really do it for me. The book is set in a near-future-ish version of America, where anti-death penalty protestors have managed to convince lawmakers in all fifty states to pass the ‘Remedies Act’, legislation that states that if a prosecutor requests the death penalty for a convicted felon, and they later turn out to be innocent, the prosecutor themselves is then executed in retribution. The main character is Justine Boucher, one of only two lawyers who have requested the death penalty since the Remedies Act came into force. As you can probably guess, doubt is now thrown on the conviction, meaning that Justine has to possibly face the consequences. The novel is, essentially, an anti-death penalty sermon, with some stomach-turning descriptions of executions along the way. The problem is that, in order for the premise to work, the reader has to accept some pretty implausible things along the way – not least that all fifty states (that’s right, even Texas) would adopt and enact the Remedies Act, and no state would find a loophole to avoid having to execute a state prosecutor. That just didn’t ring true at all. Additionally, the murder case at the centre of Justine’s story has such a convoluted explanation, as it has to be both watertight (explaining her previous certainty) and also an unsafe conviction, that my credulity was stretched to breaking point. Overall, an interesting idea but the execution is botched.

My Year in Books 2025: July

Ah, another very short list again this month. I only got time to read one book for pleasure in July, though it was a very long one!

In case you're curious, here are my lists for the rest of the year: January, February, March, April, May, June

The Devil and the Dark Water by Stuart Turton (2020)

This next book was a library book. I actually got it out in early June, but it took a little while to read it. Partly, that was because it’s quite a massive book! But mostly, it was because I had a lot of other stuff I needed to read for review this month. I’ve read Turton’s first and third novels and absolutely adored them, so it’s a bit strange that it took me so long to read his second one. But I’ve read it now, and I really liked it! The book is set in the seventeenth century, on a ship heading from the Dutch East Indies to Amsterdam. On board is the world’s greatest detective, Sammy Pipps, and his bodyguard Arent Hayes. Sammy has been imprisoned by the Governor of Batavia for an unspecified crime and is locked in the hold for the journey. Before they’ve even left the dock, however, strange things start to occur, leading some to wonder if the devil is tormenting the voyage. The story unfolds as a cross between supernatural horror and classic locked room mystery, with an impossible murder leading Arent to team up with Sara, the Governor’s wife, as the only detective who could solve the puzzle quickly has been locked up. It’s a really compelling story, and the classic whodunnit elements are never overshadowed by the shadow of the supernatural. The reveal is deeply satisfying as well – I worked out about 50% but there were some really good surprises left too.

My Year in Books 2025: June

After almost getting back on track last month, it seems I'm back to one-book-a-month posts again. I only read one novel for fun in June, and it was a reread at that. Ah well. Maybe July will see a longer post.

In case you're interested, here are my posts from the rest of the year so far: January, February, March, April, May

The Chimney Sweeper's Boy by Barbara Vine (1998)

At the end of last month, I read Asta’s Book, my favourite book by Barbara Vine (and probably one of my favourite books full stop). I think it was almost instinctive that I picked up The Chimney Sweeper’s Boy afterwards. This book is a family mystery, like Asta’s Book. It begins by introducing the ostensibly happy (but rather smug) Candless family. Gerald Candless is a successful novelist, who dotes on his daughters Hope and Sarah, but is on frosty terms with his wife Ursula. When Gerald dies unexpectedly, his publisher asks Sarah to write a memoir of her father. As she begins work, she starts to discover that her father wasn’t quite the man she thought he was. In fact, as she quickly learns (and this is in the blurb, so it isn’t a spoiler) he wasn’t actually Gerald Candless. The mystery here isn’t quite as rich and deep as that in Asta’s Book, and Sarah isn’t as engaging or likable a character as Ann (the protagonist of the earlier book), but it’s still a gripping read. As Sarah discovers the truth of her father’s life, Vine gives the reader period flashbacks, allowing the story to unfold through the dramatic irony as we get to know the real ‘Gerald Candless’ in a direct narrative his daughter will never fully understand. Some aspects of character motivation are questionable, particularly the way that Hope and Sarah ignore all the red flags of the childhood, but it’s a compelling study of troubled character.

My Year in Books 2025: May

This month's list is ever-so-slightly longer than my average for the year so far. I really am trying to find more time for reading for pleasure, and having a week off work at the end of the month helped a bit with that!

In case you're curious, here are my posts from the rest of the year: January, February, March, April

Has Anyone Seen Charlotte Salter? by Nicci French (2024)

This book was one I picked up from the charity table at the Morrisons near where I work. I wanted to make a donation and I don’t think I’ve read a Nicci French book before, so I got this one and read it almost right away. The story starts in 1991, when the Salter family are preparing to celebrate their father’s 50th birthday. As the party begins, it becomes clear that Charlotte, their mother, hasn’t arrived. The Salter children, particularly Etty, get increasingly worried about their mother’s non-attendance, but their father doesn’t think it’s a problem. The night draws on, and the family realise that Charlie Salter has disappeared. The first part of the book follows the abortive attempt to find Charlie or to work out what’s happened to her. The second part picks up the story thirty years later, when the Salters’ childhood friends Greg and Morgan Ackerley (who had their own tragedy to deal with in the aftermath of Charlie’s disappearance) decide to make a podcast about the unsolved mystery. The book is partly a mystery, which does get wrapped up at the end in a satisfying way, but it’s also partly a story about the effects of grief. The second part of the book has a rather bleak tone to it, as we see the toll that the events of 1991 have taken on the Salters and the Ackerleys. This was quite a quick and gripping read, and there was some good characterization and exploration of memory.

The Disappearance Boy by Neil Bartlett (2014)

The next book I read this month was a library book (quelle surprise!). I was drawn to this one because it’s about stage magic, which is something that always intrigues me. However, the thing that really grabbed my attention is that it isn’t set in the glamorous world of the Victorian or Edwardian theatre, but in the faded glory of 1950s variety. The protagonist is Reggie Rainbow, a young man who works in theatres. Reggie has a limp from childhood polio, but he’s strong and nimble, which are perfect qualities for a magician’s assistant (and as we learn, magicians always have more assistants than you think). Reggie works for Mr Brookes, and near the beginning of the story the magician takes on a new assistant called Pam. The trio head to Brighton to perform in a slot there in the run-up to the Coronation, and that’s probably as much as I can say without too many spoilers. I really fell in love with this book. It’s an immersive story, and it’s hard not to root for Reggie and Pam. I also really liked the descriptions of the stage shows and how the tricks were effected. One of the intriguing aspects of the story is that Bartlett keeps an air of mystery around the character of Mr Brookes. Although we learn a lot about what he does, we never learn anything about why. We’re obviously not supposed to particularly like Mr Brookes, but I have to admit I found him fascinating.

Asta's Book by Barbara Vine (1993)

This book was a reread, and a regular one at that. Asta’s Book is one of my favourite books of all time! I had a week off work at the end of the month, and I thought it would be nice to enjoy an old favourite while I was having a bit of downtime. I’m not sure what to say about this one that I haven’t said before. It’s just a lovely treat of a novel, and although I know the ending very well by now (and sometimes I wish I could erase my memory so I can experience the surprise and satisfaction I felt the first time I read it), I just never get bored of it. If you don’t know Asta’s Book, it’s a mystery novel, but with multiple layers to the mystery. There’s a family puzzle to be solved – the story begins when Ann’s aunt, Swanny, dies, convinced that she isn’t the biological daughter of her mother (the eponymous, diary writing Asta) – but there’s also a murder mystery and the disappearance of a child to be solved along the way. One of the things I love about it is the pace of Ann’s ‘investigation’. The present-day storyline takes place over several years, with Ann doing periodic bouts of research, but not letting it take over her life. I also like the fact that some of the revelations come about by accident, meaning that Ann is just as surprised as the reader when certain facts come to light.

My Year in Books 2025: April

It looks like I still haven't broken my one-book-a-month streak yet. It really has been a very busy time so, to be honest, I'm actually proud of myself for reading anything at all. I'm sure things will pick up when work quietens down a bit.

In case you're interested, here are the other books I've read so far this year: January, February, March

Festival of Death by Laurence Anholt (2020)

I picked this one up at the library, intrigued by the idea of a murder mystery set at the Glastonbury Festival. I was also interested in the idea of a police detective who is a practising Buddhist. The set-up of the story is that the lead singer of one of the festival’s headlining acts is murdered live on stage during the band’s set. Vincent Caine, the series’ ‘mindful detective’ is already on the scene, as he’s at the festival, and he’s soon joined by his partner DI Shanti Joyce to investigate the crime. I didn’t know this was the second book in a series, but it didn’t seem to be a problem reading it out of sequence. Festival of Death is a fun read, though the mystery is a bit silly (and the denouement is very silly), and Vincent Caine is, perhaps, a little bit too quirky, even for a fictional detective. There are some nice details that make it clear the author has been to Glastonbury, with some descriptions of the festival that are absolutely spot-on. However, I couldn’t get past the fact that the village near Worthy Farm is named as Kilton, rather than Pilton, throughout the book, or that the fictional headliners get to choose their own slot on the line-up, which is on the afternoon that the gates open. (Full disclosure: I worked at Glastonbury for eighteen years, so I was always going to be picky about this one.) Nevertheless, this one definitely had its charms.

My Year in Books 2025: March

Another month where I didn't have much chance to read for pleasure, so another post with only one book on it. Ah well. I'm sure I'll catch up on my terrifyingly precarious to-read pile soon.

In case you're curious, here are my other posts from the year so far: January, February

Horror Movie by Paul Tremblay (2024)

This one was another library book. I was drawn to it by the promise of horror, 90s nostalgia and a lost film. I love horror stories about lost films… and Horror Movie didn’t disappoint. This is definitely the best book I’ve read for a while, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since I finished it. The book’s narrator is an unnamed man who, when he was younger, took part in the filming of a horror film that was never released. In the present, a producer is interested in remaking (or rebooting or reimagining) the film, which has gained a cult following due to a couple of scenes being released onto YouTube. As the sole remaining cast member, the narrator is asked to advise and possibly even revisit his role as the iconic (or notorious) ‘Thin Kid’. The story unfolds through present-day sections about the Thin Kid dealing with the producers and his strange kind of fame, flashbacks to the original filming in the 90s, and sections of the film’s script. None of this description really does the book justice. It’s an immersive, unsettling read, and I just couldn’t put it down. The Thin Kid is without doubt one of my favourite horror characters in the past few years, and the way Tremblay unfolds the story before our eyes is mesmerizing. By the end, I felt like I could genuinely see the scenes from the eponymous film, as if I’d actually watched it. I can’t stop gushing about this book!

My Year in Books 2025: February

Ah, another month, another very short list. I really haven't had a lot of time for reading recently, but I'm hoping that will change soon.

In case you're interested, here's my post from January.

The Hitchcock Hotel by Stephanie Wrobel (2024)

The next book I read was another library book. The Hitchcock Hotel is a murder mystery that takes place in… well… the Hitchcock Hotel, a themed hotel opened by ardent Hitchcock fan Alfred Smettle. Alfred has created the hotel in a sprawling mansion on a hill in New England. On the first anniversary of its opening, he invites five friends from university to come and celebrate with him. Of course, everyone is hiding secrets from each other, because that’s how the genre works. And, of course, someone ends up murdered, because that’s also how the genre works. As you might imagine, the solution to the murder mystery lies in untangling the secrets from the past. The story of what happened between the six friends at university unfolds slowly, and this is more the key to working out what happened with the murder, rather than clues in the present-day. It’s probably also worth pointing out that this is one of those murder mysteries where the murder doesn’t take place until a good way through the book, so we’re also left to ponder the identity of the victim as well as the perpetrator. This was an enjoyable read, with some nice (though not particularly subtle) nods to Hitchcock films. The mystery itself isn’t too taxing – I had a pretty good idea the ‘who’, even though I had to wait until the whole story had been revealed to understand the ‘why’. If you’re a fan of modern murder mysteries, this one’s a recommendation.

My Year in Books 2025: January

Another year of book reviews begins! I've been doing this for a while now, writing mini reviews of the books I've read for pleasure (so, not including the books I've read to review, for research or for my radio show). When I first started doing this, I decided to aim for reviews of around 250 words for each book. Being the strange person I am, this quickly became a challenge of writing exactly 250 words for every review... and I'm proud to say that I've stuck to that in every post since 2018. Let's see if I keep this up in 2025.

Now... the year has got off to a pretty hectic start, given that I was promoted this month and I have a book coming next month... it's all very exciting, but I haven't much time for reading for fun. So there's only one book on this month's list, I'm afraid.

The Puzzle Wood by Rosie Andrews (2024)

This one was a library book that I checked out last year but didn’t get chance to read. It’s a Gothic, historical mystery with hints of the supernatural and an intriguing forest. The story begins in 1852, with the recently widowed Catherine Symonds applying for a position as governess at a house in Herefordshire. Catherine’s husband was wealthy, but on his death certain things came to light about Catherine’s sister Emily, who died while working as a governess at Locksley Abbey. Catherine’s plan is to ‘go undercover’ at Locksley Abbey and find out the truth about her sister. What follows is a strange tale of mystery, (potentially) magic and (unexpectedly) mining. On the one hand, we’re in fairly standard Gothic Governess territory, as Catherine meets her employer Sir Rowland, his daughter Georgie, and other members of the creepy household. On the other hand, there’s a more down-to-earth historical bent, as much of the story focuses on the coal mine on Sir Rowland’s land, and the involvement of local doctor Arthur Sidstone in Chartist protests. These elements are linked by the presence of the Puzzle Wood, a mysterious forest that is reputedly haunted, but also the subject of a proposed, contentious land sale. I have to say that these elements held my attention far more than the story of Catherine’s sister, which escalated to a very strange, somewhat far-fetched denouement. By the end, I cared a lot more about what was happening with the mine than what had happened to Emily!

My Year in Books 2024: December

My final book review post of the year! And as seems to be tradition, my December list is way longer than (I think) any other month's list. It's also dominated by Christmas-themed books, but I doubt that'll come as a surprise!

In case you're curious, here are my posts from the rest of the year: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November

Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone by Benjamin Stevenson (2022)

Last month, I read Everyone on This Train is a Suspect, not realizing it was a sequel. It was a fun read, and I liked the narrator, so I was curious to go back to the first book. And I loved it. I completely fell in love with this book! The narrator is Ernest Cunningham, who makes a living self-publishing books about how to write crime fiction (with an emphasis on the Golden Age). Ern’s family is having a reunion in a mountain resort (for reasons that will become clear), and he is reluctantly attending. Pretty early on, a body is discovered on the mountain, and Ern suspects that it has something to do with his family. Because, as we know from the title, everyone in his family has killed someone. The book is written in a knowing, genre-savvy, metafictional style. Ern narrates his narration, even going so far as to tell us early on where we’ll find a death and breaking off at times to list the clues that we might want to consider. However, the characters are well-drawn, and there’s some genuinely harrowing backstory given that had me completely hooked. I really like Ernest as a narrator – he’s much more complex than the gimmick of his storytelling style. But the thing that I loved most was that, for all his explanations, narration and commentary, there’s one secret that Ernest resolutely keeps, a secret that no true Golden Age fan would ever reveal, and that made me very happy.

The Anti-Social Season by Adele Buck (2024)

Since we were away for our annual festive getaway, my thoughts turned to Christmas fiction. I don’t read a lot of romance, but it’s one of the genres that kinda dominates the festive season (along with murder mysteries), so I thought I’d dip my toe in the water. The Anti-Social Season is the story of Thea – a firefighter who’s dealing with burnout and wanting to leave her job – and Simon – a librarian. Thea is offered the job of running the fire department’s social media, and Simon (who runs the social media for the library) is tasked with mentoring her. It turns out, the two went to the same high school, and Simon had a huge crush on Thea when they were young. This is a charming enough story, with plenty of flirting and quite a bit of sex. The problem for me was that there isn’t really any reason for the two characters not to just get together from the start. Simon doesn’t really hold any ill feelings towards Thea for not noticing his crush, and there are no external factors keeping them apart. So, they do go on a date and end up in bed together pretty swiftly, and then they’re pretty much a couple for the rest of the book. I liked the characters, and the chemistry was good, but I think I need a little more suspense in a romance, or a little more build-up to the happy ending. Overall, it was a light-hearted, fun read though.

Hotel Magnifique by Emily J. Taylor (2022)

The next book I read was a library book that I checked out in October. And it’s the second book this month that I completely fell in love with! This is a YA (older end of the age range) fantasy novel, so not the sort of thing I’ve been reading much lately. The eponymous hotel is a place of magic and decadence that manifests in different locations each day, promising guests a stay filled with wonder and enchantment. When the hotel comes to the town where she lives for the first time in a decade, Jani decides to orchestrate it so she and her sister (Zosa) can get jobs there. Of course, as soon as they’re inside the hotel (or maybe even before that), the cracks in the wonderous façade start to appear. Is being part of the Hotel Magnifique really such a good idea? I loved the descriptions of the hotel, and the growing air of menace. But most of all, I loved the character of Bel, who appears first as a ‘doorman’, ushering Jani and Zosa to their new jobs, but soon revealed as a much more integral part of the hotel. Bel is, by turn, attractive, mischievous, broken, traumatised, menacing and mysterious. Taylor does a really good job of making the reader get to know this character at the same pace as Jani, so our feelings towards him follow those of the heroine. Overall, this is just an incredibly fun read, and I couldn’t put it down!

The Christmas Guest by Peter Swanson (2023)

’Tis the season for festive novellas. The next book I read was a quick Christmas-themed mystery. The blurb promised the ‘slickest of twists’, which may have been something over an overstatement, but there was still a nice little switch in the middle (though I’ll confess to having seen it coming). After a prologue set in New York, the story takes us back to England in 1989. An American student named Ashley is invited to spend Christmas with one of her uni friends, Emma Chapman, at a country house named Starvewood Hall. As you can probably imagine, Ashley is entranced by the Englishness of it all, and by the quaint Christmas traditions of the family and the local village. However, there’s something off about it all, and there’s an air of menace (I feel like I might use this phrase a lot in my reviews this month) to proceedings. Firstly, it’s not clear why Emma has invited Ashley to stay with her family, seeing as the two weren’t particularly close friends in London. And secondly, Ashley develops a pretty heavy crush on Emma’s brother Adam when she meets him. Through Ashley’s eyes, Adam seems like a swoon-worthy young English gent, but it’s quite clear from comments and actions by others that Adam isn’t quite the person she imagines him to be. As I say, it’s not too difficult to work out where things are going, but it’s still a very engaging read. And I did enjoy the darkness of Adam (weirdly).

The Clinic by Cate Quinn (2024)

The next book wasn’t a Christmas book, but I thought it would be nicely atmospheric. And I was right! The Clinic is a psychological thriller – not to be confused with the other psychological thrillers of the same name – set in a remote and very private rehab clinic. The protagonist is Meg, a dysfunctional woman who works in undercover security at a casino. Meg checks herself after her sister Haley, a famous singer, dies of a self-administered overdose during her stint in rehab at the eponymous clinic. Meg doesn’t believe that Haley’s death was an accident or suicide. However, her stay is only partly an undercover investigation – Meg is also an addict, hooked on alcohol and oxycodone. So, in addition to finding ways to investigate her sister’s death, Meg has to navigate her own detox and withdrawal. She meets a group of celebrities who are going through treatment together, and who knew her sister, and the dynamics between this group form part of both stories (the murder case and the rehab narrative). One of the things I liked was that, though it’s clear that some of the characters had pretty traumatic childhoods, this is presented through the odd comment and implication. The focus is on how the characters are addressing the long-term effects of childhood trauma, rather than explaining in detail how it was caused. The mystery is pretty gripping with some good clues. The solution is a bit mad, but then what else would you expect with such a setting!

The Lamplighters by Emma Stonex (2021)

I bought this book in Mousehole, when we were there to see the Christmas lights. I like to read at least one book set in Cornwall during our annual holiday there, and since we stay very close to a lighthouse, this one seemed like a good fit. Stonex’s novel is about three lighthouse keepers who go missing from their tower at New Year in 1972 (yes – bonus! – this is also sort of a Christmas book). The disappearance in Stonex’s book is fictional, but there are a couple of nods to the real-life Flannan Isles case from 1900. I really enjoyed The Lamplighters. The narrative moves between 1972, showing scenes from the perspective of each of the keepers in turn, and 1992, when a novelist has decided to write a book about the case and is contacting the three women (two wives and a girlfriend) who were left behind when the men vanished. All six of the main characters are fascinating, for different reasons, and because we see things from their perspectives or in their words, it’s easy to feel very connected to them. Personally, I felt the most sympathy for Vince, the youngest and most junior keeper, whose troubled past has led him to working for Trinity House (the official authority for lighthouses). Although the book is unashamedly inspired by the 1900 case, the 1970s setting is really interesting, as lighthouses were being automated at this time, consigning the role and way of life of the lighthouse keeper to history.

The Mistletoe Mystery by Nita Prose (2024)

Another Christmas novella now… earlier this year, I reviewed The Maid, the first book in Prose’s Molly the Maid series for my radio show. The Mistletoe Mystery is a Christmas Special (a bit of a trend this year), so although it’s part of the series, it’s not a whodunnit mystery like the others. It’s basically the story of Molly and her boyfriend Juan Manuel spending Christmas together. But his behaviour is a little odd, leading Molly to believe that there’s a different sort of mystery to be solved. There’s a lot of Christmas in this book, but I think it’s really one for fans of the series. Well, specifically, fans of the character of Molly. This book is absolutely a Christmas Special, so it wouldn’t make a lot of sense if weren’t already familiar with the series. Unfortunately, I’m not a massive fan of Molly, and this book just highlights her worst traits (she’s self-absorbed and judgemental) without allowing her to show off her better traits (she’s good at solving murders). Mostly, the story revolves around everyone at the Regency Grand Hotel bending over backwards to make sure Molly has the best Christmas ever, while she barely gives anyone else’s enjoyment a thought. I know a lot of people really like the character though, and if you’re invested in her relationship with Juan Manuel then this is a must-read instalment in the series. If, like me, you find Molly a little bit self-involved, then it might be one to skip.

Everyone This Christmas Has a Secret by Benjamin Stevenson (2024)

I started off this month by reading Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone, so it was pretty obvious that I was going to be reading Stevenson’s Christmas book at some point. This isn’t as short as some of the other Christmas Specials I’ve read, and it does work as a story in its own right. I’m not sure this would be the best place to start the series, but, unlike with the last book I read, if this was your first introduction to Stevenson’s Ernest Cunningham series, you wouldn’t be completely lost. In this book, Ern is called by his ex-wife Erin who has been arrested for the murder of her partner. Erin’s partner ran a theatre project to support recovering drug addicts, and he was murdered just before Christmas (and also just before a big magic show at his flagship theatre). Stevenson’s book is as funny and knowing as his previous two, with lots of explanations as to how Golden Age detective fiction works, along with some nice commentary on the ‘rules’ of the Christmas Special that I liked. It’s structured like an advent calendar, with 23 clues in 23 chapters (Door 24 is the big reveal, of course). I’ll confess to/show off about working out a big bit of the mystery, but I was still stumped by some of the other clues – as it should be. Although the Christmas element is the appeal with this one, it’s a decent mystery outside of that. Poor old Ern though.

The Examiner by Janice Hallett (2024)

The last book I read in December was one I’d been looking forward to, but which turned out to be a little bit of a disappointment. I’ve loved all of Janice Hallett’s novels so far (including her Christmas Special, which I read last year). The Examiner is very much in the mould of her first novel, The Appeal, which I adore. The reader is presented with a series of documents, with a brief note to say that ‘something’ has happened but no further explanation. In this case, it’s a collection of reports and chat transcripts relating to a group of six art students on an MA course. As with Hallett’s other novels, there’s a lot of comedy, particularly in the chat transcripts, and her ability to let readers get to know characters through limited and non-standard storytelling techniques is, once again, incredible. However, in many ways, this novel treads the same ground as The Appeal, so it held far fewer surprises than (my favourite so far) The Twyford Code. I had some issues with the mystery itself as well, but it’s quite difficult to say what I didn’t like without spoiling the book for those who haven’t read it. Suffice to say, I prefer mysteries that look like big, shadowy conspiracies but turn out to be much more domestic in the end, rather than the other way around. I wonder if it’s time to update Ronald Knox’s Ten Commandments of Detective Fiction to include… well… things I won’t spoil here.