By the author of Under the Tuscan Sun, Women in Sunlight is a beautiful, languorous story of three American women who lease a house in Tuscany, and their American expat neighbour who’s writing about a friend who died. I love that the story featured older women — the three friends met while touring a seniors residence and decided to go on an adventure in Tuscany rather than settle down, which is awesome. I love the riff on a second lease in life, and how it’s not so much that these women had miserable lives before, but rather than moving to Tuscany opened them up to new opportunities (e.g. one of the women decided to pursue a long-held, rarely-indulged interest in painting, and ended up discovering her gift for it). I also love how strong the friendship between the women are, even though they met only a short time before the move to Tuscany.

I also loved the depiction of Tuscany, how beautiful and magical the place seems and how much emphasis there is on slow living, good home cooking and spending time with neighbours. There are many scenes that feature meals, and in one memorable scene, one of the women notes that a neighbour paid for her coffee because that’s just how things go in Tuscany. The book makes me want to visit Tuscany and possibly live there for a while — it just seems like such a wonderful place to escape to.

The American expat neighbour writing about her friend is a less compelling character. Her story is strong enough in that we sympathize with her need to make sense of her friend’s death and also honour her friend’s life, but it doesn’t quite compare to the wonder and joy and complexity of emotions that the three older women brought.

I personally would have preferred this as a movie than a book, though I think that’s more about myself as a reader than about the book itself. I tend to prefer reading a faster paced plot, and found myself wanting to see the beautiful setting in person or on the screen rather than in my imagination. This story is slow and languorously told, which fits perfectly with the themes, but had me tuning out at times. I can just imagine loving a film version with actors like Diane Keaton and Jane Fonda just living their best life and enjoying all that Tuscany has to offer.

That being said, I admit that’s more about my personal taste as a reader than a critique of the book itself. I can already imagine other readers enjoying this more than I did, and can definitely picture this as a book club read.

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Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Imagine meeting a man and falling in love. You have seven perfect days together, and just before he leaves for a long-booked holiday, he even confesses he’s fallen in love with you too. But then he never calls, and when you message him on social media, he never responds. Your friends tell you to move on, but you know that what happened between you two was real, and something horrible must have happened to him.

I had high hopes for Ghosted, which may be why the book ended up falling a bit short for me. I admit I let my imagination run a little wild before beginning the book. I was convinced the hero would turn out to be an international spy or that he witnesses a crime and has to enter the witness protection program. All perfectly valid reasons for ghosting someone you love.

The book’s reason turned out to be a lot more realistic, and a lot more emotional. I actually really liked the reason behind Eddie’s ghosting; it advanced both characters’ development and took us a bit deeper into their humanity. I also really liked the subplot about Eddie’s mom — Walsh does a good job in depicting the stresses of being a caregiver and sole support person for a family member who’s “struggling.”

I also like that Sarah and Eddie are both in their late 30s. Given the book’s premise and cover, I was expecting a young adult / new adult romance, so I liked that this romance involved characters who were a bit older.

But overall, I found myself disappointed in the book. My main issue is that, for me to believe than an adult woman gets this emotional over being ghosted, I must buy into their romance. Unfortunately, while Walsh gives us some glimpses of Sarah and Eddie’s seven days together, I barely felt any romantic spark between them. The seven days that were supposed to be so magical they made Sarah lose perspective and turn full-on stalker when Eddie ghosts her didn’t quite grab me, and I ended up feeling more sorry for Sarah than actually invested in her quest to find out the truth.

Likely, Walsh was trying to depict a different type of romance than the kind I expected. I think I remember reading something about how instantly comfortable Sarah feels with Eddie, and certainly with their very first scene together, I initially mistook them for a long-time married couple. Walsh also does a good job of showing how needy Sarah is in general (from her high school friendships and romances to her insta-love with her now-ex-husband), which can explain why this kind of romance would have appealed to her. But still, I never felt like their relationship was compelling enough to make me care about them getting back together. Mostly, I had to keep fighting the feeling that Sarah needed help to move on.

The story does pick up in the final third of the book. Like I said, I liked the reason Walsh crafted behind Eddie’s ghosting. I thought it was one of the strongest points in the book and formed probably my favourite scenes. Moreover, this revelation picks up the story’s pace somewhat, and I did find the ending to be heartwarming and sweet.

I’ve seen a few Goodreads reviews that says this book may appeal most to romance readers. I disagree and think it may have a bigger hit with the literary fiction crowd. Asa fan of both genres, I thought the romance aspect fell flat, and I found that the story was really more about both characters dealing with their emotional baggage and moving on from some difficult experiences, than it was about their relationship.

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Thanks to Publisher’s Group Canada for an advance reading copy in exchange for an honest review.

I love good twin/bad twin stories, and She Was the Quiet One was a boarding school drama filled with enough scandals and soapy fun to keep me reading into the night. When orphaned sixteen-year-old twins Rose and Bel Enright enrol in The Odell School, they almost immediately find themselves at odds with each other. Good twin Rose fits right into Odell’s competitive academic climate, finding a group of friends among the straight-A, student council types. Bad twin Bel immediately falls in with the popular crowd, a group of mean girl bullies with a running dare to seduce their handsome English teacher Heath Donovan. Heath’s mousy wife Sarah is the school’s math teacher and Rose’s adviser.

From the beginning of the book, we know a murder has been committed. We don’t know who the victim is or what the motive could have been, only that the police are investigating and it somehow involves the twins. Michele Campbell takes us from witness testimonies to flashbacks on the incidents that led up to the crime, and it’s a pretty thrilling ride.

The drama kicks off when Bel and her friends commit a cruel act of bullying and online harassment on Rose’s roommate, and Rose’s testimony becomes central to the lawsuit the victim’s family files against the school. Things escalate when Heath lets Bel off with a lighter punishment than her friends, and rumours begin to circulate that they’re having an affair.

I loved reading all the drama. Rose is way more uptight than Elizabeth Wakefield ever was, and Bel was much more screwed up than Jessica Wakefield ever allowed herself to be, so it was great to see them playing off each other. Unlike the Wakefield twins, there seems to be little love lost between the Enright twins, and only near the end do we realize that at least one of them actually did care for the other.

Sarah and Heath’s story was equally compelling, especially in the beginning. Heath is such a charming character, and I like how Campbell slowly lets us in on his darker side, particularly based on an incident from his and Sarah’s past. Sarah in turn is such a sympathetic figure, and while I often felt frustrated by her wilful blindness on certain topics, I can also see why she’d try so hard to hold on to her illusions.

The latter half felt dragged out though, and some of the characters keep making some really stupid decisions just for the sake of the plot. Like, if you have suspicions about someone, why would you go to where they are rather than go to the police? And if someone’s telling you they were attacked and there’s physical evidence, it seems honestly petty to immediately assume they’re lying and staging the evidence, just because they’re inconveniencing you in some way. All that kind of stuff kept the plot going and the tension increasing, but it got a bit eye-roll-y after a point.

Still, overall this is a fun read, and I enjoyed all the soapy drama.

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Thank you to St. Martin’s Press for an advance reading copy via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.