audiobooks · mini-review · stuff I read

Seven Days in June by Tia Williams, read by Mela Lee

Summary from Goodreads: A REESE WITHERSPOON BOOK CLUB PICK!

“Tia Williams’ book is a smart, sexy testament to Black joy, to the well of strength from which women draw, and to tragic romances that mature into second chances. I absolutely loved it.” (Jodi Picoult, #1 NYT best-selling author of The Book of Two Ways and Small Great Things)

Seven days to fall in love, fifteen years to forget, and seven days to get it all back again…

Eva Mercy is a single mom and bestselling erotica writer who is feeling pressed from all sides. Shane Hall is a reclusive, enigmatic, award‑winning novelist, who, to everyone’s surprise, shows up in New York.

When Shane and Eva meet unexpectedly at a literary event, sparks fly, raising not only their buried traumas, but the eyebrows of the Black literati. What no one knows is that 15 years earlier, teenage Eva and Shane spent one crazy, torrid week madly in love. While they may be pretending not to know each other, they can’t deny their chemistry – or the fact that they’ve been secretly writing to each other in their books through the years.

Over the next seven days, amidst a steamy Brooklyn summer, Eva and Shane reconnect – but Eva’s wary of the man who broke her heart, and wants him out of the city so her life can return to normal. Before Shane disappears though, she needs a few questions answered…

Seven Days in June hit pretty big this summer – unfortunately no galleys, so I put it on the TBR. And then I heard rumbles that the audiobook was fantastic so I got in the (long) hold list for the library Libby copy.

First of all, the narrator of the audiobook – Mela Lee – is absolutely FANTASTIC. Her voices are all so distinct from one another without obviously “putting on an accent” or something. It’s so organic. Few people can do this. Please hire her to read all the things.

Second, the story is a beautiful second-chance romance between two successful novelists who, on the surface, seem to the have nothing in common (erotic paranormal romance writer Eva vs SRS BUSNS literary wunderkind Shane) but in reality had a Romeo-and-Juliet like star-crossed week together at the age of seventeen when all their intensity crashed together and almost burned them out. (Trigger warnings for drug use, addiction, self-harm, and violence.) Their literary careers were made through writing books inspired by the memory of the other: Eva’s vampire hero/anti-hero is Shane, Shane’s protagonist Eight is Eva. Fifteen years later, they’re in their thirties. Shane, now sober, comes to New York to make amends to Eva, who is just holding it all together as a successful writer and single mom. Although Eva doesn’t want to rekindle their relationship, she wants answers – plus a favor – and there is no denying that the pull between them is as strong as ever. They’re like two magnets, crashing into one another again (whooo, so sexy). But this week in June is different, Eva and Shane are different people now. The question is: can they build a mutually supportive relationship or is their magnetic attraction all that exists for them?

Tia Williams absolutely hits it out of the park with this book. The story is so compelling. Eva and Shane are incredible characters, they practically walk right off the page/out of the speakers. Shane is only about a year sober, is terrified of never being able to write again, and trying so hard to fulfill promises to be there for at-risk teens, a promise that is almost impossible to keep. Eva is living with a chronic pain/fatigue syndrome that she’s had for years – since she was a child – but tries her best to keep hidden as well as a tween-going-on-thirty daughter (omg, I love Audrey) who has just managed to get suspended from her bougie Park Slope private school. The secondary characters are fantastic. Williams’s ability to set a scene is stellar – the scene where Shane and Eva meet again is set at a panel on Black literature and that whole like 30(? unsure how long because I was listening) pages is just *chef’s kiss* perfect.

I know Seven Days in June isn’t shelved with genre Romance in most bookstores. The ending isn’t quiiiiiite as solid a Happy For Now/Ever After that we would usually see for the genre, but I’m pretty sure that Eva and Shane are on that road by the end of the novel, so I would say it’s got an emotionally satisfying ending. ❤

Dear FTC: I borrowed this book from my library via their Libby app.

mini-review · stuff I read

Negative Cat by Sophie Blackall

Two-time Caldecott winner Sophie Blackall spins a winning tale about Max, a feline whose behavior doesn’t win any raves, except from the boy who believes in him and finds a way to turn a negative into a positive.

When a boy is FINALLY allowed to get a cat, he has no doubts about which one to bring home from the shelter. But Max the cat isn’t quite what the family expected. He shuns the toy mouse, couldn’t care less about the hand-knitted sweater, and spends most of his time facing the wall. One by one, the family gives up on Max, but the boy loves his negative cat so much, he’ll do anything to keep him. Even the thing he dreads most: practicing his reading. Which, as it turns out, makes everything positive!

I finally got a copy of this pretty cute picture book – Negative Cat! There’s a little boy who keeps asking for a cat – and finally is allowed to pick out a cat after he agrees to keep his room neat and read at least 20 minutes a day (which is hard and people make fun of his slow reading) and so on. So he picks out a cat – Max – and, well, Max isn’t the “ideal” cat. He doesn’t snuggle, he eats the houseplants, he’s standoffish. Pretty soon the rest of the family decides that Max needs to go – idk what their problem is, Max is a cat adjusting to a house after living in a shelter – but the boy saves the day by sitting down to read and Max soon snuggles into listen to the story without judgement.

The cat Max is based on one of Blackall’s own cats, who was a “negative” cat that didn’t do all the expected cat stuff and was kind of standoff-ish and difficult. But the story here in the book is a) hey grownups, give the cat more of a chance and b) hey everyone, give kids space to read without judgement or pressure.

Dear FTC: I bought my copy of this book.

mini-review · stuff I read

Return of the Underwear Dragon by Scott Rothman, illustrated by Pete Oswald (Underwear Dragon #2)

Summary from Goodreads: In this sequel to the hilarious picture book, Attack of the Underwear Dragon , brave Sir Cole teaches his former sworn enemy to read.

Once Sir Cole has saved the Kingdom from the destructive wrath of the Underwear Dragon, Sir Cole has the startling realization that the Underwear Dragon wasn’t attacking because he was disobeying the signs that said not to. The Underwear Dragon just couldn’t read the signs!

Once again, Sir Cole sets out on a valiant quest. But this time it isn’t to conquer the Underwear Dragon, it’s to help him learn how to read. But it’s hard to teach a fire-breathing creature to read an actual book because he sets them all on fire. And when the Underwear Dragon finally succeeds, Sir Cole presents his star pupil with the perfect gift–gigantic alphabet underwear!

Return of the Underwear Dragon is cute (note: I haven’t read the first book in the series) but I feel like the story is too convoluted for a 40 page picture book. We start with Sir Cole – who, to be honest, seems a bit judgy about people’s underwear – advertising for an assistant. A lot of people respond to the ad (including a little girl named Claire making an anti-dragon kit) and Sir Cole gets overwhelmed and takes a walk. While walking, he realizes that the Underwear Dragon couldn’t read the signs about not wearing one’s undies on the outside and goes off to teach the Underwear Dragon (who isn’t happy to see him) to read. This doesn’t go well. The Dragon is about to torch the town again when Claire shows up with her anti-dragon kit to save the day (Claire’s appearances are almost 20p apart). Sir Cole tries again to teach the Dragon to read, is successful this time, and he makes Claire his assistant – and writes a book that he reads to the Knights of the Round Table. A lot. The illustrations are super-cute, but the story…eh.

Dear FTC: I read a digital galley of this book on the publisher’s website.

mini-review · stuff I read

Hurts So Good: The Science and Culture of Pain on Purpose by Leigh Cowart

Summary from Goodreads: An exploration of why people all over the world love to engage in pain on purpose–from dominatrices, religious ascetics, and ultramarathoners to ballerinas, icy ocean bathers, and sideshow performers

Masochism is sexy, human, reviled, worshipped, and can be delightfully bizarre. Deliberate and consensual pain has been with us for millennia, encompassing everyone from Black Plague flagellants to ballerinas dancing on broken bones to competitive eaters choking down hot peppers while they cry. Masochism is a part of us. It lives inside workaholics, tattoo enthusiasts, and all manner of garden variety pain-seekers.

At its core, masochism is about feeling bad, then better—a phenomenon that is long overdue for a heartfelt and hilarious investigation. And Leigh Cowart would know: they are not just a researcher and science writer—they’re an inveterate, high-sensation seeking masochist. And they have a few questions: Why do people engage in masochism? What are the benefits and the costs? And what does masochism have to say about the human experience?

By participating in many of these activities themselves, and through conversations with psychologists, fellow scientists, and people who seek pain for pleasure, Cowart unveils how our minds and bodies find meaning and relief in pain—a quirk in our programming that drives discipline and innovation even as it threatens to swallow us whole.

Hurts So Good is a really interesting exploration of the science and psychology of why humans put themselves through significant pain for pleasure. Cowart explores the obvious source of pain for pleasure – giving or receiving pain for sexual pleasure, including in her own s/m practices – but also ultramarathoners, ballet dancers, hot pepper eaters, Polar Bear plungers, etc. and then also looks at where the activities begin to tip over into self-harm (eating disorders, compulsive exercise, cutting). She interviews a lot of researchers on the cutting edge of pain research for each topic.

All the trigger warnings, given the above. Cowart is very frank about her own experience with eating disorders and self-harm (she was a serious ballet dancer) and does not pull her punches. The chapter where she discusses self-harm there is a lengthy content warning.

Dear FTC: I read a digital galley from the publisher via Edelweiss.

mini-review · stuff I read

Little Pieces of Hope: Happy-Making Things in a Difficult World by Todd Doughty

Summary from Goodreads: “Todd Doughty is one of the happiest people on the planet. He finds things big and small that make us smile, and in this wonderful book he shares them with a world he cherishes.”–John Grisham

“A poetic, sparkling gem you’ll want to pick up every time you need a smile. It’s the ultimate compendium of joy.”–Kevin Kwan

An enchanting collection of lists, musings, prompts, and illustrations that will inspire you to cherish all of the things–from the extraordinary to the everyday, from the big to the little–that bring hope into our lives

On March 11, 2020, the day the World Health Organization declared the coronavirus a global pandemic and all of our lives began to change in unprecedented ways, Todd Doughty knew he needed to do something to help him stay connected to the everyday joys of daily life. So he wrote down a list of things that make him happy: The musical intro to “All Things Considered.” Someone forgiving you. Someone believing in you. Your foot sticking out from under a blanket in order to find the cool spot. Freshly cut yellow tulips. A really good burger. Many, many lists later, Little Pieces of Hope pulls together the best of Doughty’s lists along with never-before-seen entries, essays, musings, prompts, quotes, and playlists that offer solace, connection, and a daily touchstone of joy in a difficult world. A beautiful keepsake full of gorgeous illustrations, Little Pieces of Hope is brimming with the pleasures of life, inspiring readers to look for and celebrate the good things that surround us.

The design of Little Pieces of Hope is doing a disservice to the content. The conversion from Instagram account to book is just page after page of names and objects and so forth in long paragraphs broken up by mix-tapes/playlists (which are pretty good) and short essays. The paragraphs are so long that they become hard to read. It would have been much nicer to have curated the long lists a bit and use some graphic design work to have more interplay between the layout and the text (see: The Comfort Book, which is going for a similar vibe but is much easier to read).

Dear FTC: I read a digital galley of this book from the publisher via Edelweiss.

Romantic Reads · stuff I read

The Lights on Knockbridge Lane by Roan Parrish (Garnet Run #3)

Summary from Goodreads: Can one man’s crowded, messy life fill another man’s empty heart?

Raising a family was always Adam Mills’ dream, although solo parenting and moving back to tiny Garnet Run certainly were not. After a messy breakup, Adam is doing his best to give his young daughter the life she deserves—including accepting help from their new, reclusive neighbor to fulfill her Christmas wish.

Though the little house may not have “the most lights ever,” the Mills home begins to brighten as handsome Wes Mobray spends more time there and slowly sheds his protective layers. But when the eye-catching house ends up in the news, Wes has to make a choice: hide from the darkness of his unusual past or embrace the light of a future—and a family—with Adam.

I’m slowly coming back to category romances so why not start with this Christmas romance about a gay dad and his reclusive neighbor?

Well, The Lights on Knockbridge Lane is adorable as shit, y’all. Adorable. As. Shit. Take one lonely dad with his gregarious, curious-about-everything eight year-old daughter Gus and mix in a reclusive neighbor plus a meet-cute where the kid breaks into the recluse’s house because HE HAS A TARANTULA (and other non-standard pets including a couple of racoons) and set it at Christmas…. Absolutely the cutest. And VERY steamy, more so than expected. Both Adam and Wes have history that make them a bit (ok, more than a bit, in Wes’s case) hesitant to open up to a new relationship. Adam’s ex basically dumped him – and Gus – because he didn’t want to be a dad and Wes has PTSD from the paparazzi (among others) when he was a teen actor. But when Gus’s Christmas wish is to have a house with The Most Lights on It Ever and Adam, who is not handy at all, needs help, Wes slowly begins to open up (and Gus kind of forces the issue by being fascinated with Wes’s work with biochemical-luminescence and clean energy…and his tarantula). Such a sweet and funny and steamy holiday book.

Slight complaint that this is the third book in a series but the first two (Better Than People and Best Laid Plans – sorry, I haven’t read that one, yet) came in trade paperback but this third one is part of the Harlequin Special Editions series and comes in mass market. *side eye*

Dear FTC: I read a digital galley of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. And I’m probably going to buy a copy.

mini-review · Romantic Reads · stuff I read

Morning Glory Milking Farm by C.M. Nacosta (Cambric Creek: Sweet and Steamy Monster Romance #1)

Summary from Goodreads: Violet is a typical, down-on-her-luck millennial: mid-twenties, over-educated and drowning in debt, on the verge of moving into her parent’s basement. When a lifeline appears in the form of a very unconventional job in neighboring Cambric Creek, she has no choice but to grab at it with both hands.

Morning Glory Milking Farm offers full-time hours, full benefits, and generous pay with no experience needed . . . there’s only one catch. The clientele is Grade A certified prime beef, with the manly, meaty endowments to match. Milking minotaurs isn’t something Violet ever considered as a career option, but she’s determined to turn the opportunity into a reversal of fortune.

When a stern, deep-voiced client begins to specially request her for his milking sessions, maintaining her professionalism and keeping him out of her dreams is easier said than done. Violet is resolved to make a dent in her student loans and afford name-brand orange juice, and a one-sided crush on an out-of-her-league minotaur is not a part of her plan—unless her feelings aren’t so one-sided after all.

Morning Glory Milking Farm is a short human/monster romance novel, featuring a high heat slow burn with a lot of heart, and a guaranteed HEA. CWs include: cock milking, non-human anatomy, size difference, and a lot of fluid. It is the first book in the Cambric Creek monster romance series, and can be read as a standalone. 

Monster romance will probably never be a go-to subgenre for me (y’all can keep your spider romances, etc. more for you) but Morning Glory Milking Farm was an oddly sweet and very low-angst romance between a human woman and a minotaur. What angst there is, is primarily Millennial “over-educated-under-employed-too-much-school-loans” angst and a little bit “omg-what-if-he-LIKES-me-likes-me” quibbling. The romance build up is very sweet, with Rourke insisting on being a gentleman and definitely romancing Violet with dinner and sweet dates before they have P-in-V sex.

Not to say that book it isn’t REAL steamy. Because it is. And not because of Violet’s job. Once we get past the first few milking sessions where Violet’s wide-eyed “omg WHUT AM I DOING?” wears off into “well, this is a job, just like any other”, the scenes of giving a handy to any minotaur character besides Rourke become pretty commonplace. But scenes between Violet and Rourke – even when Rourke is just the Stern Brunch Daddy there for his Friday appointment – have great chemistry and sexual tension. (The P-in-V sex is really interesting, too – make sure to check the author’s content warnings – and I liked the oddly weird tidbit that minotaur jizz has so much protein/volume that it can clog the pipes, which means they have to use special enzymes in the wash and is what makes it prized as an ingredient in those little blue pills for humans.)

I wish Nacosta had pushed a little more into parts of the world-building. There was some interesting commentary on adaptive housing for the different monster species. And a throw-away line by Rourke that human women tend to do some “sexual tourism” in Cambric Creek could have been expanded on somewhat. But overall this was a fun first foray into monster romance.

Dear FTC: I bought my copy of this book through my store – that was a fun package when it arrived. Haha.

mini-review · Reading Graphically · stuff I read

Unicorn Playlist by Dana Simpson (Phoebe and Her Unicorn #14)

Summary from Goodreads: From newspapers to Nickelodeon, Phoebe and Her Unicorn is the most stunning unicorn feature around! This latest collection of Phoebe comics will delight middle grade readers and unicorn lovers of all ages.

Best friends Phoebe Howell and Marigold Heavenly Nostrils march to their own beat, but life isn’t all rainbows and unicorns. With so many problems in the world and drama at school, Phoebe wonders why unicorns aren’t in charge instead of humans. With Marigold, each day is full of magic, from introducing Phoebe to unicorn music to crashing a goblin popularity contest, and even tracking down long-lost family members like Infernus, the Unicorn of Death (who ends up being surprisingly adorable). In Unicorn Playlist, Phoebe and Marigold play all the hits.

What can I say about a new Phoebe and Her Unicorn installment? Super-cute, as always. Marigold’s “roast” was hilarious.

Dear FTC: I read a digital galley from the publisher from Edelweiss and then I bought a copy at my store, because obviously.