In 2013, Edward Kelsey Moore introduced an indomitable and unforgettable trio of headstrong African-American women in his bestselling debut, The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat. Lifelong best friends Odette, Clarice and Barbara Jean—known collectively as the Supremes—won the hearts of readers worldwide as they navigated life’s ups and downs with grit and good humor. After four years, fans will jump for joy that Moore’s long-awaited sequel is finally here.

In fictional Plainview, Indiana, life hasn’t changed much for our heroines since we last left them: Odette and her husband still have a rock-solid marriage; Barbara Jean and her high school sweetheart are enjoying a second chance at love; and Clarice is experiencing a welcome renaissance in both her marriage and her concert pianist aspirations. The three women still meet for their weekly post-church catch-up lunch at Earl’s diner, and it seems that after the tumult of the previous novel, they’ve found their grooves and are sailing through their golden years. All this changes, however, when Clarice’s mother falls madly in love with the owner of the local blues joint/gentlemen’s club/general house of ill repute (much to the bemusement—and amusement—of the town). Their wedding brings home legendary bluesman El Walker, even though he swore decades earlier he’d never return to Plainview. El’s performance at the wedding is the calm before a truly epic storm that rips open tender wounds from the past and catches the Supremes and their families in its terrible wake.

Like its predecessor, The Supremes Sing the Happy Heartache Blues is an uplifting read that tugs at readers’ heartstrings and elicits enthusiastic chuckles in equal measure. Moore masterfully balances sorrow and humor, scandal and earnestness, to create a soul-nourishing narrative that entertains and captures life’s richness. With a colorful cast of characters and touching meditations on family, faith, love and loss, this sparkling sequel will satisfy fans while welcoming new ones to the fold with open arms.

This article was originally published in the July 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Judy Reene Singer, author of previous works such as Still Life with Elephant and Horseplay, has delivered something entirely new with In the Shadow of Alabama, a raw and emotional family drama that spans generations.

Rachel Fleischer is a horse trainer who begrudgingly agrees to attend the funeral of her estranged father, a withdrawn and angry man who left her with few good childhood memories. But a stranger approaches Rachel at the funeral, offering her an apology and an opportunity to learn more about who her father was—particularly during his time as a Jewish soldier in charge of an all-black battalion during World War II.

Traveling easily between present day and 1940s Alabama, when Jim Crow and racial violence reign, readers experience Rachel’s journey to discover the man her father was before the war changed him. In scenes that can be gut-wrenching, we see Martin Fleischer grapple with the astounding racism and violence he comes into contact with on American soil, and watch understanding and compassion grow as he learns more about the men he’s supposed to lead.

The most resonant moments of In the Shadow of Alabama focus on the unseen side of war stories: the aftermath of the war and the families who have to cope with a traumatized loved one. As Rachel learns more about her father, she, her critical mother and indulged younger sister find a measure of closure regarding the explosive man who overshadowed their early years. Though the book’s conclusion is far from neat or happy, this is a deftly painted portrait of real life, one that was inspired by Singer’s own experiences with her father. Filled with beautifully drawn characters, In the Shadow of Alabama is a thought-provoking and emotionally engaging novel that will keep readers thinking.

Love often exceeds the power of words, but Karen Neulander is doing her best. Whenever she has a spare moment, Karen tries to write her way to telling her son how deeply she adores him. Someday, she won’t be there to say it herself.

Karen has stage IV ovarian cancer, and it’s only a matter of time before she leaves 6-year-old Jake to face the world without his mother by his side. She’s made plans for her son’s care after her death, but Karen also wants him to know her. She is the parent who loved him and cared for him no matter what. She’s been his only parent—until recently.

As Karen faces a terminal diagnosis and tries to reconcile her son’s life without her, Jake asks for the one thing she’s reluctant to give: his father. See, Karen’s pregnancy was a surprise, and her then-boyfriend, Dave, was uninterested in becoming a father. After Karen told Dave she was pregnant, his bad reaction led her to cut him out of her life forever.

That was the plan, anyway. But how can she deny Jake a chance to meet the person who provided the other half of his DNA? Surely it’ll be a one-time meeting, Karen convinces herself.

If only life were so simple.

Our Short History is the book Karen writes as she grapples with mortality, love and the fear that her ex will take Jake away before her final days. It’s a meditation on love and grief, and lauded novelist Lauren Grodstein (A Friend of the Family) plunges into both beautiful and ugly emotions without hesitation. That’s real life, after all. Even when we want the best for someone, our own self-interest and insecurities can arise. It’s what we do afterward that can truly reveal love.

This article was originally published in the April 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Meredith Oliver is the girl who got left behind. A normal teenager semi-successfully navigating the shark-infested waters of middle school, she is in a sandwich shop when the most popular girl in school is kidnapped at gunpoint. “Get up,” the man says to Lisa Bellow, who dutifully follows him out the door. Meredith, frozen with fear, doesn’t even see the man’s face or car.

Meredith is sure Lisa doesn’t know her, even though they’ve gone to school together since elementary school and their lockers are next to each other. The most contact they’ve had in recent years was when Lisa directed Meredith—in true mean-girl style—to sit differently on her cafeteria chair so her butt didn’t hang over the edge.

The Oliver family has already seen its share of tragedy—older son Evan was a promising baseball player until an errant fly ball ended his dreams. Their parents, Claire and Mark, stagger under the weight of the kidnapping, simultaneously thrilled that Meredith was spared by the kidnapper and guilty that another girl is likely gone forever.

“No, she didn’t care one bit who Lisa Bellow was; the only important thing about Lisa Bellow, to Claire, was that she, not Meredith, was the girl who was taken. Certainly it would be better if she were found alive, better for Meredith, but all that really mattered was that Meredith was alive. Meredith was safe. Meredith, her baby, her baby girl, was down the hall.”

Once Lisa is taken, Meredith begins envisioning Lisa trapped in a dark, cold apartment with her abductor and abuser. The visions soon morph as Meredith grows desperate to reach Lisa before it’s too late. She retreats into her own mind, searching for clues that might lead her to Lisa.

The second novel from writer Susan Perabo (best known for her short stories) is wrenching, a dark yet beautifully told story of family, fear and grief. In the end, the question isn’t whether Meredith can save her classmate, but whether the Olivers can save Meredith.

This article was originally published in the March 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Kavya and Rishi Reddy, successful Indian-American immigrants living in a charming Berkeley bungalow, have the sort of life that Checo and Soli are hoping for as they set out to cross the border from Mexico. Yet Checo and Soli, teenagers with little more than uncompromising determination and invincible spirit, have the one thing that Kavya and Rishi do not. Ignacio El Viento Castro Valdez, conceived somewhere in the deserts of Mexico, is the lucky boy that unites the two couples’ stories.  

Just when Soli thinks she might make it in America, she gets caught and put in immigration detention with a likely outcome of deportation back to Mexico. As a U.S. citizen born after Soli’s arrival, her 1-year-old son, Ignacio, enters the foster care system and is placed with Kavya and Rishi, who are unable to have a biological child. Like any good parents, the Reddys take on their new role wholeheartedly, forgetting that Ignacio is someone else’s child. 

At its core, Shanthi Sekaran’s compassionate second novel is a spectacular saga of motherhood and the choices we make to achieve it. Supporting the main cast are side characters who lend intriguing perspectives born of their own culture and belief systems: the Cassidys, who employ Soli; Uma, Kavya’s traditionally minded mother; and Silvia, the cousin who takes Soli in. 

Lucky Boy resonates, raising important questions about our society and our responsibility to those who seek the American dream, even as it forces you to ask, “What would I do?” This is a multidimensional story with lots of emotion, humor and love, and it will appeal to parents and non-parents alike. Like M.L. Stedman in The Light Between Oceans, Sekaran presents a complex moral dilemma that leaves readers incapable of choosing sides. Lucky Boy is a must-read.

This article was originally published in the January 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Wally Lamb won readers’ hearts with his New York Times bestselling novel (and Oprah Book Club selection) She’s Come Undone. Four bestsellers later, he returns with I’ll Take You There. 

The novel follows film professor Felix Funicello, a divorced father who runs a Monday-night movie club for his film students. One evening, Felix encounters the ghost of Lois Weber, an American silent film actress and director. Felix follows her on the ride of his life, revisiting scenes from his past that are projected onto a movie screen. As Lois takes him back through time, Felix realizes that he has been charged with uncovering a dark secret at the heart of his family. 

Lamb’s previous work has been quite sensitive to women, painting endearing portraits of female characters who have been ignored, shamed and often mistreated. He builds on that tradition in I’ll Take You There, a love letter to feminism and to trailblazing women—real and imagined—who have graced the silver screen or stood behind the camera.

This article was originally published in the December 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

At a time when race relations loom larger in the public eye than any decade since the 1960s, New York Times bestselling author Jodi Picoult has plunged into the deep end of the conversation with Small Great Things, a tale of prejudice, tragedy, justice, privilege and conflict.

The title comes from a quote from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: “If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way.” And for the most part, the book’s protagonist, nurse Ruth Jefferson, is the personification of that ideal. Unfortunately, fate deals her a nearly unwinnable set of cards when she is alone in the nursery as young Davis Bauer goes into cardiac arrest. Normally, her instincts would kick in immediately, but this baby is different: He’s the son of white supremacist parents who have explicitly directed that no person of color be allowed to care for him. And Ruth is black. For a few critical moments, Ruth wonders whether she should violate the order and potentially lose her job, or jump in, knowing that she will soon be able to turn him over to another nurse.

Unfortunately, Murphy’s Law ruled the nursery that night.

After a code blue is called and an expert team—including Ruth, who is pressed into service despite the directive—races through its paces to try to save young Davis, but the baby dies. Running through the postmortem in her head, Ruth wonders if her initial hesitation contributed to the child’s death.

She’s not the only one. Ruth gets charged with one count of murder and one count of negligent homicide. Suddenly the respected nurse is just another defendant, whose future hangs on the ability of her white public defender, Kennedy McQuarrie, to figure out some strategy that will keep her client out of jail.

While riveting, this is by no means an easy book; all the players have virtues and flaws, and uncomfortable questions are raised on virtually every page. And while a few of her characters embody behaviors that some might find formulaic, Picoult navigates the waters like a seasoned journalist, afflicting the comfortable and comforting the afflicted, trying to do the small things in a great way. The first step to solving a problem is recognizing it; the second is trying to speak about it honestly, and whatever readers think of the result, Picoult has made a genuine effort here, as she details both in her author’s note and her acknowledgements. It’s a laudable attempt, and no small thing.

Thane Tierney lives in Inglewood, California, and tries to steer clear of both hospitals and courts.

Maribeth Klein has it all—and that’s the problem.

The main character in Gayle Forman’s absorbing first adult novel has a career, family and a home in a Manhattan zip code so desirable “it seemed as if even the nannies have nannies.” Juggling all of these responsibilities has left Maribeth “overtaxed and overburdened, but show her a working mother who wasn’t.” So, when Maribeth feels twinges in her chest, she thinks she’s merely eaten something bad or is feeling the pressure from her latest deadline at work. But it turns out she has had a heart attack.

Things go from bad to worse when, following surgery and a hospital stay, Maribeth’s family seems to expect her to return to the same demanding and stressful routine: “dancing on a surfboard, juggling knives, while they all went about business as usual.” So Maribeth simply takes off. She heads from New York City to Pittsburgh, for reasons that Forman slowly but skillfully makes clear. Once in Pittsburgh, Maribeth takes up with a younger set of neighbors and an older doctor, who help her come to terms with what she’s left behind. But a more glaring revelation awaits, providing Leave Me with some of its most tender moments.

Occasionally, Forman’s dialogue is a little clunky and her attempts to balance comedy and drama don’t always work, though she is to be credited for exploring the lighter side of some rather dark material. Ultimately, Leave Me deftly explores the domestic struggles of 21st-century bourgeois life. This is an insightful ode to—and cautionary tale for—the overburdened working mother.

This article was originally published in the September 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Single mom Mele is raising her 2-year-old daughter in San Francisco. She has a pack of funny, irreverent friends and a flexible blogging gig that allows her to hang out with said friends and their kids. 

The only hiccup in her otherwise great life? The father of her child is marrying someone else: a gorgeous woman who makes cheese in Petaluma.

“When he first told me about her I envisioned a country woman milking goats, her jeans pulled up to her nipples, but she isn’t like that at all,” says Mele. “She has a perfect ponytail, big teeth, and high cheekbones—that alien look of models. She knows how to sail, make cheese, ride horses, and she’s marrying the man I thought I’d be with for the rest of my life.” 

Hemmings, who first made her mark with 2007’s The Descendants, is a superbly confident and inventive writer. Much of Mele’s story is told through her application for a cookbook-writing contest, a surprisingly effective construct through which she tells stories about her friends and comes up with recipes inspired by their tales. The fact that the contest is sponsored by the San Francisco Mothers’ Club also allows for plenty of humor in Mele’s no-holds-barred responses.

Does your husband cook? reads one question. How do you divvy up the responsibilities?

“Way to rub it in my face, you sick, kitten-heel wearing bitches,” Mele replies.

When her baby daddy invites her to his wedding, Mele asks her friend Henry, a stay-at-home dad, to be her date. Henry’s marriage is failing, and Mele suspects her innocent invitation has the potential to turn into something much more. But is she ready to move on from the one she thought was The One?

How to Party with an Infant is hilarious. Hemmings is brutally honest about the pain and pleasure of parenting in the 21st century, when analyzing other parents’ choices—from schools to snacks—has become a favorite pastime. She also reinforces the universal truth that non-judgmental, imperfect, supportive and slightly boozy friends are the best antidote to the parenting wars.

This article was originally published in the August 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

YA author Georgia Clark’s first adult novel, The Regulars, drops readers effortlessly into the lives of three 20-something best friends trying to make it in New York City: Evie, an aspiring writer and diehard feminist who hates her job at a trashy magazine; Willow, an ethereal and troubled aspiring artist; and Krista, the confident trainwreck of a best friend so many of us have had.

When the trio comes across a magical potion that will make them pretty—drop-dead, supermodel level pretty—they go down the rabbit hole and try it. To no one’s surprise, the friends find opportunities laid at their gorgeous feet, from celebrity flings to incredible career advancements. 

Readers will delight (and sometimes cringe) as Evie, Willow and Krista go through awkward hookups, career struggles, familial drama and the occasional epic failure as they discover that pretty just might come at a hefty price. Peppered with topical references, this witty, feminist fairy tale is perfectly timed for a new generation of women making their way through the world. The Regulars unravels the concept of prettiness, beauty standards and pop culture in general. Clark beautifully brings to life the struggle to accept oneself, while still wanting to change. And her entertaining story urges readers to ponder: What would you do?

This article was originally published in the August 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

All Alexandra Hammond wants is to understand and help her daughter. Tilly, who is on the autism spectrum, has needs that exceed what Alexandra and her husband, Josh, know how to provide. They’ve tried patience, talking to their teenage daughter and coaching her through outbursts. They’ve tried therapy. They’ve tried special schools. But no combination of education and treatment works.

So the Hammonds are taking a drastic measure: They’re leaving Washington, D.C., and joining parenting expert Scott Bean and two other families at Camp Harmony, a refuge for families of special-needs children, in New Hampshire. Even if it means giving up independence and privacy, the family is determined to create the best life for Tilly and her younger sister, Iris.

In Harmony, bestselling author Carolyn Parkhurst (The Dogs of Babel, Lost and Found) again pulls readers into the hearts of her characters. Although this is decidedly a novel, Parkhurst draws on her own experience as the mother of a child with Asperger’s, making Alexandra’s frustration with her brilliant but difficult-to-reach eldest daughter and resulting desperation ring true. When Scott comes along, she questions how a man with scant credentials and no parenting experience can declare himself a child behavior expert. But if there’s hope, Alexandra can’t help but gravitate to it.

By toggling perspectives of the Hammond family women—Alexandra, Tilly and Iris, who is the primary storyteller—Parkhurst deftly illuminates the narrative. As the family settles in, questions about Scott’s sketchy qualifications become impossible to ignore. The result is a riveting read.

This article was originally published in the August 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Call it serendipity, but when author Eleanor Brown stumbled upon a cache of letters chronicling her grandmother’s Jazz Age journey to Paris, the circa 1924  correspondence inspired a novel that pays homage to a chapter of her family’s history, but with a fictional and decidedly modern twist.

Readers who relished Brown’s debut novel, The Weird Sisters, will not be surprised to find that The Light of Paris is also rooted to the timeless themes of home and family, and the messy conflicts that ensue when venerable traditions are threatened by personal independence. 

Brown’s latest heroine, 34-year-old Madeleine Spencer, has forfeited her dream of becoming an artist in order to please her controlling, judgmental mother and the country club set. One day, Madeline has had enough: She packs her bags, walks out on a miserable marriage and heads—where else?—from Chicago back South to her family home in Magnolia, where she discovers inspiration in her grandmother Margie’s journals.

If Madeleine’s narcissistic, stunningly handsome and successful spouse, Phillip, is painted with broad strokes that seem slightly implausible for a book set in 1999 (the couple is childless, but Phillip does not allow Madeleine to work), Brown can be forgiven: Without exception, the other characters populating her novel are achingly real.

Written in a dual narrative style, with colorful chapters from Margie in 1924, interspersed with modern-day chapters in Madeleine’s voice, this page-turner is sure to be a summer favorite with readers who have visited, and loved, Paris, as well as those who understand the tragedy of family history repeating itself. As Brown writes: “So it ran in the family, then, this estrangement. There was a sadness in my mother’s eyes I had never seen before, and it made my heart ache for her, and for myself. How had we spent our entire lives lying to each other? How had she denied herself to me—her real self—for so long?”

Still, it would be inaccurate to sum up The Light of Paris as entirely a mother-daughter story. Brown’s deft narrative touch has also created two love stories as well as an endearing cast of peripheral characters from Magnolia who keep the plot lively, and who, above all, prove that you can indeed go home again.