The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE $7.00 like new

If you've ever said, or even just thought to yourself, I wish something exciting would happen, Patricia Campbell is here to tell you that that's not a good idea. Grady Hendrix's The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires is a complete surprise, in all of the most brilliant ways, sucking me into the real-life hilarity of Patricia and her friends, then immediately horrified by some truly gruesome and frightening scenes.

Patricia is a stressed-out Southern wife and mom, caught up in the continuous rut that has become her life, with an even more stressful book club. After a particularly upsetting (though funny) meeting where it was revealed that no one actually read the book, Patricia and a few stragglers start their own club, devoted to the true crime genre, tempting Patricia with the idea that things would be better if they were just a little more exciting. Then into the neighborhood moves James Harris, an enigmatic, handsome stranger who not only does Patricia feel drawn, but also unnerved. What unfolds is a quirky, sometimes hilarious and sometimes horrifying, novel of friendships, coming of age, even as adults, and super natural monsters who not only scare the bajeezus out of us, but also make us realize that anything is possible, including us. 

This book is absolutely brilliant. So well does it capture the monotonous, though unpredictability, of motherhood and wifedome, I was actually surprised such relatability came from a man. In the author's note, he said he wanted, "...to pit Dracula against my mom," and it would appear that he has a great understanding and appreciation for that role. And the vast differences between how the wives behave versus the husbands is crafty and sharp. 

The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires is a horrifyingly good time, with lots of humor, lots of heart - and not just the bleeding kind - it's quippiness reminiscent of Netflix's Dead Like Me and The San Clarita Diet. I definitely recommend this book, perfect for reading during this time of year, or if you're ever in the mood for a fun scare. And though My Best Friend's Exorcism is not the prequel, it did spawn this novel, making it another to-read.  ⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on my goodreads profile.

The Last Mrs. Parrish by Liv Constantine

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE $3.00

I did something all us bibliophiles swear to never do but actually do with every one of our book choices and I picked The Last Mrs. Parrish by Liv Constantine based solely on the cover. I was headed off on vacation, with ample amounts of pool-time in my imminent future and if there's one thing I love, it's a good theme. The cover screams "pool read," and the story requires minimal focus so you can still succumb to all of the "Mom, watch me!"s coming from your kids in the water.

Amber Patterson has a grudge. Not against anyone in particular, just whoever looks like they might be enjoying their life just a little too much. Growing up poor and forgotten, Amber has set her sights on rich, center-of-the-affluent-Universe, Daphne Parrish, in a manipulative scheme to usurp her. But what could have been a Master Class in Manipulation, turns cheap and tawdry and is more like Manipulation for the Mindless.

With insipid characters and a storyline to mimic The Wife Between Us by Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen, The Last Mrs. Parrish is a colossal disappointment, but the Devil is in the details. This book is painfully despicable, tasteless, disturbing, crude, and isn't so much duplicitous as it is easy and skanky. The writing is cheesy and inauthentic, and the story is overly long and drawn out and never actually reaches its synopsis, making it feel exhausting.

I didn't feel compelled to award any stars to The Last Mrs. Parrish on my goodreads profile, if you are looking for a good Domestic Noir, look elsewhere. 

Good Morning, Midnight by Lily Brooks-Dalton

During these often bleak and always confusing times, it feels crass to theme-read. Then again, it is at precisely these moments when we can really benefit from the empathetic value of reading someone else's story, fictional or not. Reading others' situations or perspectives can help us better understand our own situations and perspectives, which is why I was particularly drawn to Lily Brooks-Dalton's short novel, Good Morning, Midnight. In all the bibliophilic blaspheme, I picked up the book solely based on the cover, but the synopsis is what made me plunk down the money and buy it.

Dedicated researcher, Augustine, is nearing the end of his work and the end of his life when he decides to ignore evacuation orders from the Arctic due to some cataclysmic event in the developed world. Knowing he will die there, alone, he is wrapping up his work when he discovers a little girl named Iris among the gear, and suddenly his perspective is shifted. 

Sully - short for Sullivan - is aboard the first space mission to Jupiter and, with her crew, is headed home to an Earth they haven't received communication from in over year. What unfolds is a melodic, profound, existential look into the personal lives we lead and how an uncertain crisis can help us better understand ourselves, for better or worse.

If you're looking for a fast-paced read, or think it will be based on the synopsis, then this is not the book for you. It is a slow-moving 252-page story that - had it been any longer - I probably would have abandoned. The writing is dramatic and meant to be absorbed rather than glossed over, with the main focal points of the story being on how our perspectives are altered in spite of - or because of - even the best-laid plans. Though the story is slow, it is beautiful and lyrical and unexpectedly engrossing, and the crystal-clear imagery both paints the timeless beauty of each different, yet inherently similar, landscape, and is a haunting parallel to each characters' self-imposed isolation.

Although the "cataclysmic event" is rumored to have something to do with war, it is difficult not to draw immediate similarities to what is going on in our current world. Brooks-Dalton perfectly encapsulates the fear and confusion and hope and unexplainable calm yet deep uncertainty that we are all currently grappling with during our own self-imposed isolation. In another way, it is also a good example of the struggles we are having with solitary as well as group isolation. And Good Morning, Midnight really makes the effort to underscore the reasons we feel the need to complain about our current circumstances, both in the importance of having a task to perform, work to do - as in Sully's case - as well as having something or someone besides ourselves to take care of - as in Augustine's.

Good Morning, Midnight really is a great book, though the reflection of current events might not be some readers' cup up tea. And while I am glad the book isn't any longer, there is a particular aspect of the ending that some readers may find frustrating, though this book is most definitely not supposed to be centered around the apocalypse. ⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE 

🌟SHIPPING SPECIAL🌟 Until further notice, shipping on limited orders will be reduced to $2.50. See the link for all of the info.