booksamongstfriends's reviews
738 reviews

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I loved this book. It reminds me so much of Confessions by Kanae Minato in the way the story is told. The different perspectives, existing in both past and present, layer the narrative in a way that deepens its complexity and intrigue. Just like the first set of pictures we encounter in the story, the layers need to be perfectly arranged to truly understand the bigger picture.

As someone who loves thrillers and mysteries, I find there is something particularly special about Japanese horror and thrillers. Creating something so intricate and captivating takes a remarkable level of skill, and Uketsu achieves this masterfully. It’s not just about how he unravels the mystery but also the stories woven in between. The use of imagery and diagrams adds an extra joyfully puzzling and intricate feature to what is essentially a dark and strange story of secrets, lies, trauma, and crime.

This book has also been recommended for fans of Junji Ito’s work (which I enjoy immensely!), and I can absolutely see why. Similar to Ito, Uketsu creates darkly human characters. In Strange Pictures, these characters—whether the doting mother, the mama’s boy, or the relentless reporter—are crafted from common archetypes but pushed to exaggerated extremes that remain purposeful and intentional. The result is a story that feels devastating, hopeful, and impossible to put down.

I read this book with the audiobook alongside the physical copy, and the tone of the narration was spot-on. From Naomi’s wispy, eerie voice to Kurihara’s passionate energy, the audiobook captured the direct prose and the hauntingly self-aware characters beautifully. The meta exploration of society’s relationship to true crime—mirroring how we, as readers, become engrossed in the case alongside Kurihara and Sasaki—was another standout feature. I found myself eagerly trying to solve the mysteries in the pictures, feeling as if I were part of the investigation.

From solving an art teacher’s murder, confronting a stalker, uncovering secrets of the dead, and exploring deeply traumatic pasts, this book packs an emotional and intellectual punch within its 240 pages. It’s a tale of trauma, justice, motherhood, selfishness, desire, and, of course, mystery. Japanese thrillers once again come out on top.

Thank you Netgalley & Pushkin Vertigo for the egalley for my honest review.

4.5

2.75 This book definitely caught me at the title. I mean, who wouldn’t want to read a cooking-class-inspired murder mystery? Unfortunately, the blurb led me astray, and my expectations were set a little too high. I finished feeling underwhelmed by a story that seemed undercooked.

The premise follows chef Paul, who reluctantly agrees to stand in for his friend Christian to oversee lessons at a cookery school. While Paul and Christian have their own history, in much need of money, Paul reluctantly steps in for his friend. While initially apprehensive, Paul begins to enjoy his new role. Only until Christian is found beheaded with the cleaver everyone last saw Paul with. As Paul is wrongly accused, he begins a twisty hunt to uncover the real culprit behind this hack of a crime.

While the premise is seemingly fun, the story felt bogged down by unnecessary characters and meandering subplots, such as Johnny and Marcus, who added little to the narrative. Their inclusion felt like a bid for extra drama, but it didn’t land. I had hoped the author would lean more into the culinary world with bold, campy risks—something like a darkly humorous version of Top Chef where contestants are literally “cut out” of the competition. Even with all its happenings, the chances the author took weren’t bold enough or explored enough to really captivate me.

I was glad to have the audiobook, provide by NetGalley & RB Media, for this read. The narrator had charisma and truly put forth an effort. Though with such an onslaught of characters and plot choices, I believe a full cast would have better distinguished the characters and made them more memorable. Additionally, the humorous aspects had there moments, but overall, it missed the mark for me and was just a bit too cozy.

This debut was alright. It will likely appeal to cozy mystery fans, and I’d definitely recommend it to my dad—it has the same vibe as those classic British mystery shows he loves.

Booked for Murder is your classic small town cozy mystery. It’s one of those books that never feels too serious or thrilling, but provides a cast of quirky and colorful charterers a reader can easily visualize. I can honestly say that the setting and audiobook narration made this book more enjoyable reading experience in bringing the characters to life.

The story centers around Madeline, who like many, never imagined she’d return to her hometown of Enigma after leaving years ago to pursue an acting career. But stardom isn’t always easy to achieve, and now, grieving the loss of her beloved Aunt Rose, Madeline finds herself inheriting her aunt’s quirky, well-loved bookstore and home. This leave Madeline with more questions than answers as she steps in this new chapter of her life.

As Madeline tries to figure out her next steps, she’s reminded of how deeply her aunt impacted the community. While repeatedly asking herself “Why me?”, she sees the importance of keeping her Aunt’s Bookstore open for those in need. But returning home isn’t all sentimental memories. Fires are set, and not everyone in Enigma sees this as a homecoming. Things take a darker turn when Tammy, a local girl Madeline had recently connected with, is killed. If some people were upset with her being there, imagine them now. Grappling with Tammy’s tragic death, Madeline sets out to unveil the truth of Tammy’s murder, honor her aunt’s memory, and figure out just where she belongs.

This story is more than just a murder mystery. It’s about grief, second chances, and rediscovering the potential in where you come from. I found myself really drawn to the way this book explorers longing to be someplace else while discovering where you are isn’t that bad after all. I would 100% recommend having the audiobook to fully animate the small-town southern sayings and backhand compliments. In no small feat, the narrator captured the personality and sly humor of each character making them a little bit more distinguishable.

Though the mystery itself follows a predictable path, it’s the sense of community, found family, determination that elevates this story. Booked for Murder is a charming read that cozy mystery fans will appreciate.

Three words to describe this collection: immersive, community, electric.
Femi’s lyricism, paired with his vivid use of imagery, transported me! Not only to a place, but many moments that play on the senses. We are lucky enough to experience The Wickedest through Femi’s words. A place that is pulsing with culture, passion, regret, longing, and energy.

Reading this felt like standing on a dance floor, bathed in party lights, as they euphorically baptize you anew—even if just for one night (or one dance). Femi’s juxtaposition in poetic style perfectly captures the highs and lows that house parties evoke. His portrayal of this London’s night scene—particularly a legendary monthly house party—feels intimate and celebratory, an ode to a community’s heartbeat. making the experience both nostalgic and refreshingly alive. This is an ode to the London night scene, specifically a monthly house party that has become the heartbeat of its community.

The use of photos, text inserts, and other multimedia elements elevated the storytelling, creating a hazy, dreamlike atmosphere. Akin to piecing together the events of an unforgettable night out the next morning while still fresh on your skin. Femi dissects the beats, scenes, intimacies, and interactions with a playful sensory-rich lens that just works. It’s truly a collection that is both reminiscent and refreshing. Femi gives us celebration and authenticity in this nuanced exploration of connection and community that I’m sure many will enjoy.

Another deeply reflective piece for readers to sit with and learn from. I’ll preface this by saying I completely understand why some readers might not love this as much as Don’t Cry For Me. But the love is still there! The story feels familiar, yet we’re given even more insight and angles to approach it from. It’s like experiencing a series that’s done in such an artful, poetic, and touching way. The layering and connectedness of it all—that’s the sweet spot of this read. It makes me hopeful to finally hear from Isaac’s mother.

As someone with older parents, some of the lessons and conversations in this book hit close to home. Once again, Daniel Black has delivered a work that’s stunningly self-aware in its exploration of change, generational trauma, unpacking, and readdressing the realities of our past selves and childhood through a lens of forgiveness and honesty.

I personally found the storytelling masterful. Black’s decision to revisit elements of Isaac’s history through therapy adds so much depth to this book. We witness how Isaac’s memories and connections are challenged as he unveils so much of himself to his therapist. And just like Isaac, we as readers are drawn into this process, reassessing who Isaac’s father was to him. This is done so beautifully that you don’t just feel for Isaac—you feel alongside him.

I loved the depth of Isaac’s pain and growth. He’s a character that, like many, seeks acceptance and acknowledgment from his parents while also fighting to give it to himself. We see his struggle to become the truest version of himself that he’s been told he could never be. This truly brought the ending home for me, with its sense of relief—Isaac finally lets go of the weight of his father’s approval.

The therapist’s commentary throughout the book is another highlight. Time and again, a mirror is held up to Isaac, showing how his inability to love himself affects his ability to love others. The narrative emphasizes the importance of forgiving oneself as a means to forgive others—particularly one’s parents—and to see them as whole, flawed individuals outside of one’s expectations.

There’s so much in this book that doesn’t just appeal but deeply resonates. Whether it’s the journey of self-discovery, grappling with sexual identity and acceptance, or the continued lessons of forgiveness and generational healing, Black captures emotions with stunning clarity. Readers can feel pain, compassion, disappointment, hope, and so much more!

I particularly appreciated that the forgiveness in this book doesn’t absolve Jacob of how he treated Isaac. Instead, it’s a grace and insight that fosters connection and growth—even posthumously. By the end, we see a bridge built and the recognition that Isaac is, in many ways, his father’s son.

Now I’m really hoping we don’t just hear from Isaac’s mother, but also get a book set during the time of his parents’ youth.

Thank you to NetGalley & Harlequin for this e-galley!

2.5 To be frank, this book is erroneously titled. As many other readers have mentioned, this book is more a collection of thoughts through essays than an in depth look into Bethune’s life. I sadly didn’t leave this read with any new information. Though I know there will be readers that do. I appreciate that this read will inspire readers to learn more about Bethune’s life but it wasn’t at all what I was hoping for.

2.5 and barely that. This book put me to sleep, literally. Many reviews have mentioned the multitude of issues, including pace, so there’s no need to rehash anything in too much depth here.

Society of Lies truly has an interesting concept but it unfortunately was too slow for me. I only finished because I had the audiobook and saw I was already 50% of the way through when thinking about DNFing. Sadly, it just takes too long to get where it’s going. Then when it gets there, it discards of anything left that was holding your attention or making you care. It’s by no means a terrible book and it does also tackle racial identity, privilege, and access in a perfect setting. Personally, it’s more of a softer take on dark academia and thrillers than what I usually enjoy.

But it may be the book for you.