MURDER on the MARLOW BELLE by Robert Thorogood

Murder on the Marlow Belle by Robert Thorogood is a thoroughly enjoyable continuation of the Marlow Murder Club series, delivering exactly the kind of witty, character-driven cozy mystery fans have come to expect.

This fourth installment centers on the murder of Oliver Beresford, a man who was never exactly the most popular figure in town and had more than a touch of the bully about him. As a result, the list of people who might have wanted him gone feels almost endless, giving Judith Potts, Suzie Harris, and Becks Starling plenty of tangled motives and local secrets to untangle.

Thorogood keeps the tone light and engaging throughout, balancing sharp observations about small-town life and amateur dramatics with the steady pleasure of watching three very different women work together. The riverside setting and the closed circle of suspects provide a classic locked-room (or locked-boat) flavor without ever feeling overly familiar. The dialogue sparkles, the friendships among the central trio remain one of the series’ greatest strengths, and the mystery itself is paced with just the right mix of clues, red herrings, and quiet revelations.

If you’ve enjoyed the earlier books, this one will feel like a welcome return to Marlow—comforting, clever, and consistently entertaining. New readers can jump in without much difficulty, though longtime fans will appreciate the continued development of Judith, Suzie, and Becks. A solid, satisfying entry that leaves you looking forward to the next case. 4 / 5 stars.

TRACK of the CAT by Nevada Barr

Nevada Barr’s Track of the Cat, the first novel in the Anna Pigeon series, introduces readers to a National Park Service law-enforcement ranger working in the remote backcountry of Guadalupe Mountains National Park in West Texas. 

The story centers on Anna Pigeon, a woman who has left city life behind for the isolation and demands of the wilderness, only to find that the natural world she seeks is not free of human complication and danger. Barr, drawing on her own experience as a park ranger, grounds the mystery in the harsh beauty and physical realities of the desert landscape.

When I first read this book around the time of its original publication, I genuinely enjoyed it. The strong sense of place, the grounded portrayal of park work, and the introduction of Anna as a capable yet solitary protagonist made a lasting impression. I liked it enough to continue immediately with the next three books in the series.

Revisiting it years later via the audiobook proved less satisfying. What had been a solid 4-star experience in print settled at about 3.5 stars in audio form. The atmospheric writing and internal perspective that worked so well on the page felt slightly diminished when filtered through narration. For readers drawn to the series by its wilderness settings and character-driven storytelling, the print version remains the clearer and more rewarding choice.

Track of the Cat still holds up as an effective series starter for those who prefer reading over listening. If you want to enter Anna Pigeon’s world, stick with the book and leave the audiobook on the shelf.

PEOPLE WE MEET ON VACATION by Emily Henry

I’m not usually a romance-novel reader, but People We Meet on Vacation won me over by being more comedy than pure romance.

Poppy Wright, the outgoing travel writer for R&R Magazine lives in New York and has a love-hate relationship with her Midwestern hometown and family, and Alex Nilsen, the quietly handsome, almost pathologically introverted high-school teacher who is perfectly at home there, have been best friends for about twelve years. Their annual summer trips—part research for her articles, part just an excuse to spend time together—are the heart of the book and the source of most of its biggest laughs. They date other people, Poppy sometimes more impulsively than Alex, yet the real tension is the slow recognition that their friendship already contains something deeper.

Emily Henry’s strength here is the banter and the specific, lived-in quality of the friendship. The book is funny, warm, and low-pressure in the best way—a genuine change of pace that I enjoyed a lot.

Rating: 4.5/5 ⭐

AMERICAN DIRT by Jeanine Cummins

American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins is a book that leaves you torn. One part of me found it gripping and hard to put down; the other part felt disturbed, sad, and deeply upset by it. That mixed reaction seems pretty common, and it makes the novel especially rich for discussion.

What the Story Does Well American Dirt follows Lydia, a bookstore owner in Acapulco, and her young son Luca after a cartel attack destroys their family. Forced to flee north, they join the dangerous stream of migrants heading toward the U.S. border. The pacing is propulsive—thriller-like in its urgency—while the mother-son bond gives the story real emotional weight. The journey itself feels relentless and visceral, and Cummins keeps the stakes high even as the material gets heavier.

The title works on several levels at once. “American dirt” points to the physical soil migrants risk everything to reach, the arbitrary line of the border (the dirt is the same on both sides), the gritty realities of the journey, and the complicated, imperfect America waiting on the other side. It’s deliberately ambiguous and rewards conversation about what the phrase comes to mean by the end.

The Parts That Hit Hardest The violence is graphic and unrelenting from the opening pages. The emotional toll—grief, constant fear, the particular dangers faced by women and girls—builds until the book can feel punishing as well as compelling. A lot of readers finish it (or set it aside) feeling drained.

One of the most unsettling threads is Lydia’s relationship with Javier, the cartel leader who becomes her friend before she learns who he really is. Even after she discovers his identity, she struggles to fully reject the cultured, literary man she thought she knew. That cognitive dissonance—holding onto the charming version of him while knowing he’s capable of extreme violence—feels protective and, in retrospect, almost unbearable. When the full consequences of his actions arrive, the earlier attachment makes the betrayal and loss even more devastating. It raises hard questions about denial, charm, shared interests, and how ordinary people can misread danger when it comes wrapped in personal connection.

American Dirt isn’t a comfortable read, and it isn’t meant to be. It’s emotionally charged and frequently upsetting, yet it tends to stick with people long after they finish.

Rating: 3.5 / 5 ⭐ Mixed feelings — gripping but heavy. Worth talking about with friends who don’t mind heavy books—especially if you want to dig into migration, moral gray areas, how people rationalize danger, and stories that linger.