Fiction in 50 July Challenge: After Dinner…

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Fiction in 50 NEW BUTTON

Welcome to the Fiction in 50 micro-writing challenge for July, with the prompt:

button_after-dinner

If you’d like to join in, just create a piece of prose or poetry in fewer than 51 words and link it up in the comments section of this post.  For more detailed information on the challenge and future prompts, just click here.

I’ve gone with a somewhat grim interpretation of the prompt this month and have titled my contribution….

Insomniac

The last bites of dinner still redolent on his tongue signaled the beginning of the long, dead hours between this moment and the early hours in which the world would once again begin to stir.

He sighed. 

Stroked the cat beside him.

Braced himself to fend off the whispers.


 

I look forward to seeing what other people have come up with this month!

Our prompt for August will be…

button_a-blessing-in-disguise

Until next time,

Bruce

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Corpselight: Paranormal Creatures and Pregnancy on the Streets of Brisvegas…

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corpselight

If you are as much a fan of Ben Aaronovitch’s DC Peter Grant series of paranormal police procedural novels as we are, you really should prick up your pointy, furry ears for the book we have for you today.  We received Corpselight, being the second book in Angela Slatter’s Verity Fassbinder paranormal detective series, from Hachette Australia for review and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

Life in Brisbane is never simple for those who walk between the worlds.

Verity’s all about protecting her city, but right now that’s mostly running surveillance and handling the less exciting cases for the Weyrd Council – after all, it’s hard to chase the bad guys through the streets of Brisbane when you’re really, really pregnant.

An insurance investigation sounds pretty harmless, even if it is for ‘Unusual Happenstance’. That’s not usually a clause Normals use – it covers all-purpose hauntings, angry genii loci, ectoplasmic home invasion, demonic possession, that sort of thing – but Susan Beckett’s claimed three times in three months. Her house keeps getting inundated with mud, but she’s still insisting she doesn’t need or want help . . . until the dry-land drownings begin.

V’s first lead takes her to Chinatown, where she is confronted by kitsune assassins. But when she suddenly goes into labour, it’s clear the fox spirits are not going to be helpful . . .

Corpselight is the sequel to Vigil and the second book in the Verity Fassbinder series by award-winning author Angela Slatter.

It must be noted that Brisbane, my ancestral home and current shelfing ground, is not commonly the setting for books featuring fantasy and paranormal happenings.  In fact, the last one I read with Brisbane as a setting was Jam by Yahtzee Croshaw, four years ago.  Despite this, Slatter has had a damn good crack at trying to create a paranormal paradise in our fair city in Corpselight, with, among other creatures, a mud-slinging Scandinavian nasty and a skulk of kitsune who have no doubt taken advantage of the quick nine hour flight from their home country.

The quick-witted tone of Verity’s narration moves the plot along apace and despite the many, many references to her pregnancy in the first few chapters (including the truly remarkable revelation that at thirty-two weeks along, she sleeps soundly all night), it’s easy to get sucked in to the initial mystery on offer – the mysterious repeat appearance of stinky, coating mud inside an upmarket Paddington house.  Much like in the Peter Grant series, Verity works with various connections in the paranormal underworld as well as seemingly ordinary people who have taken advantage of Weyrd-Human relations – the ubiquitous insurance agency chief amongst them – to dig deeper and uncover the truly unexpected source of the mud-slinging.  I did find that the narration was slowed a little in the early chapters by information dumps about the events of the previous book.  These were necessary from my point of view, considering I hadn’t read the first book, but I wonder whether there might have been another way to accomplish the same task without slowing the narration – a cast of characters at the beginning, perhaps, or something similar.

I’m sure that most readers won’t have any problem at all with Brisbane as a setting, but for some reason I found it enormously difficult to try and pair places mentioned that I know with the existence of fantasy elements.  I’m not sure why that is. I’m sure if the setting was Melbourne or Sydney or some other Australian city I wouldn’t have had this problem, but because Brisbane seems so unlikely to me as a paranormal setting, what with being a resident, it took an awful lot of effort to suspend my disbelief.  Although I will admit to a little flash of schadenfreude when I noted that the mud-afflicted house was in Paddington.  Sucks to be you, richy rich!

There were some reasonably complicated reveals toward the end of the book relating to Verity’s mother and other family members, that may have been clearer to those who have read the first book, but provided for an action-packed finale.  The fact that Verity gives birth halfway through the book was also an unexpected spanner in the works but provides a new lens through which Verity views the sinister events that are unfolding around her.

Overall, if you enjoy urban fantasy novels and appreciate some diversity in the paranormal creatures you encounter in your reading then you should definitely give Corpselight a go.  If you aren’t a fan of jumping in at the middle of a series, start with book one instead – Vigil.

Until next time,

Bruce

Fi50 Reminder and TBR Friday: The Luck Uglies…

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fi50

It’s that time of the month again – Fiction in 50 kicks off on Monday!  To participate, just create  a piece of fiction or poetry in fewer than 51 words and then add your link to the comments of my post on Monday.  For more information, just click on that snazzy typewriter at the top of this post.  Our prompt for this month is…

button_after-dinner

Hope to see you there!


TBR Friday

Today I’ve got a book that’s been on my TBR list for a while and was also one of the books I nominated at the start of the year as a title that I would particularly like to tick off in the Mount TBR Reading Challenge for 2017.  Allow me to present to you my thoughts on The Luck Uglies by Paul Durham.

the luck uglies

Ten Second Synopsis:

Rye lives in Drowning, a town that has been free of rampaging Bog Noblins for many a long year, thanks to the historical intervention of the Luck Uglies, a band of masked Bog Noblin slayers.  The Luck Uglies have now disbanded thanks to the pompous and arrogant Earl Longchance and the village of Drowning is feeling the rumblings of the Bog Noblins once again.  Why has Rye’s mother set so many house rules? What is the blue glow that eminates from the necklace that Rye has been told never to take off?  And who will protect Drowning now that the Luck Uglies have gone?

Time on the TBR Shelf:

Two years?  I’m not 100% certain, but roughly that long.

Acquired:

I picked this one up on layby a couple of years ago because it was a good price.  I really wanted the edition with the cover pictured above, but decided to cut my losses and just grab it while it was on special even though the cover wasn’t the one I wanted.

Reason I haven’t read it yet:

I have a couple of books on the TBR shelf that seem similar in content and length, so could never make a decision on which one to start with.

Best Bits:

  • The world building here is as solid as all get out.  Durham has created a perfectly believable world with its own monsters and guild of criminal saviours and much of it felt quite original.  I liked the house rules that Rye had been given and these played a large role later on in the story, so it was good to see that all the bits of the world that Durham had set up were being intertwined more deeply as the plot developed.  On reflection, this had a similar vibe to Garth Nix’s Sabriel.  Although the plots and target audiences are quite different, both stories feel like the beginning of an epic, with a focus on setting things up for more complex interactions further down the track.
  • The story had a cerebral feel about it and managed to avoid the usual tropes of series-opener middle grade fantasy offerings.  The story itself is quite meaty and it was obvious that this book is the start of something much bigger.
  • There are a few characters who turn out to be more than they seem, or are much more integral to the story than they appear early on, and it was interesting to discover that the characters that I thought would be important weren’t so much.
  • Shady, Rye’s house cat, was one of my favourite bit part players, and it looks like I was right to place my loyalties there, because Shady has a larger role later on in the story.

Less Impressive Bits:

  • The pace of the book was quite slow, with much of the action taking place in the last few chapters.  At times I didn’t mind this at all and at other times I was wishing that something would happen to give the story a bit of a kick along.  The majority of Rye’s discoveries take place covertly, on sneaky missions, and while this does allow a slow reveal of information, I did find myself wondering, “Where is this going?” more than once.
  • I didn’t feel like Rye’s friends, Quinn and Folly, and some of the minor characters, were explored deeply enough.  This may be rectified in later books, but it seemed like Folly and Quinn were just narrative devices to smooth Rye’s plot arc sometimes rather than characters in their own right.

On reflection, was this worth buying?

I enjoyed it, but could probably have just borrowed it from the library.

Where to now for this tome?

Not sure.  I’m not entirely convinced that I’ll continue on to the next book in the series, so I may end up passing this one on to a mini-fleshling of the right age and interest set.

So that’s book number 13 in my climb up Mount Blanc.  You can check out my progress toward the Mount TBR Reading Challenge 2017 here.

How goes your TBR pile?

Until next time,

Bruce

My Lovely Frankie: An Evocative, Timely and Insightful Glimpse into Catholicism of the Past…

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my lovely frankie

My Lovely Frankie by Judith Clarke.  Published by Allen & Unwin, 28th June, 2017.  RRP: $19.99

I sit on the shelf of practicing Catholics.  The he-fleshling has a cousin in the clergy and an uncle who is one of Australia’s most prominent theologians.  The she-fleshling’s father spent time in the seminary training to become a Christian brother.  They are Catholics that, being of the post Vatican II era, fully grasp and vehemently despise – as many non-Catholics do – the hypocrisy and power hungriness that characterises the culture of the Church in general and the clergy in particular.  When the she-fleshling’s father left the seminary to pursue marriage, his parents were sent a note of condolence on his (from the clergy’s point of view) ridiculous and life-wrecking decision.  So I fully appreciated the gentle and accurate rendering of life in a 1950s seminary that Judith Clarke has created in historical YA novel, My Lovely Frankie.  

If you are not Catholic, have no knowledge of how the Catholic clergy works and has worked in the past, or have no insight into how the Church has changed (and more importantly, how it hasn’t) over the past 70+ years however, you may be mildly to majorly baffled by the decisions made by some of the characters in this book.  With that advisory message under our belts, let us continue.

We received our copy of this title from Allen & Unwin for review and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

A masterful, moving story about a teenage boy caught between faith and love, by one of Australia’s finest YA writers.’Frankie believed in Heaven quite literally, as if it was another lovely world out past the stars. And when he spoke the word “love”, it seemed to spring free and fly into the air like a beautiful balloon you wanted to run after. But I couldn’t tell my parents about Frankie, not properly. I told them I’d made friends with the boy in the room next to mine, and how he’d come from this little town out west. I couldn’t tell them how he was becoming the best thing in my world. I couldn’t tell anyone, I hardly admitted it to myself.’

In the 1950s, ‘entering’ the seminary was for ever, and young boys were gathered into the priesthood before they were old enough to know what they would lose. Tom went to St Finbar’s because he was looking for something more than the ordinary happiness of his home and school.But then he discovered that being able to love another person was the most important thing of all.

For Tom, loving Frankie made him part of the world. Even when Frankie was gone…

Although this is classified as a YA novel, I think it’s safe to say that the setting and historical background underpinning Tom’s reflections will be lost on many current twelve to seventeen year old readers.  I think it was a lucky thing that I have a background knowledge of Catholicism and the structure of the Church both on a personal level and through tertiary studies, because it allowed many parts of the book to resonate with me in a way that might not be possible for young readers of today, be they Catholic or otherwise.  Couple that with the fact that the narrative style of the book is reflective, gentle and lacking in action for the majority of the novel and this may not be seen as a winner for its target age group.

Nevertheless, if you have any interest in historical novels and themes of coming of age against difficult social circumstances, I would encourage you to give My Lovely Frankie a go.

Tom decides, of his own accord, to enter the seminary and train to be a priest.  While this may not have been a strange decision in the 1950s – indeed, for Catholic families with multiple sons, it was almost a given that at least one boy would go into the Church – for Tom, this decision could be classed as a bit unusual because he is an only child and his parents don’t seem to be particularly pious or involved in the Church.  Nevertheless, Tom stands by his decision and while in the sparse, regimented and emotionally distant environment of the seminary, he meets Frankie.  Frankie is a breath of fresh air in the stale corridors, and felt to me almost like a St Francis of Assisi character; the one who is out frolicking amongst the baby animals while the others are restrained by tradition and discipline from admitting to and engaging with the beauty of life.   Tom becomes fascinated with Frankie and when Frankie mysteriously disappears from the seminary later, it affects Tom such that his whole life is coloured by the loss.

The story opens on Tom’s dotage and the reader is privy to the importance that Tom has placed on his relationship with Frankie, fleeting though that relationship was.  From there, the book flicks back to Tom’s youth, and the decisions that led him to enter the seminary – and perhaps more importantly, the decisions that caused him to remain there.  Alongside the tale of friendship and unrequited romance between Tom and Frankie, the book highlights themes of emotional connection and the development of empathy (or lack of it) in an environment as restricted as the seminary.

Clarke has cleverly thrown up many of the issues that are major factors in the train wreck that is the current state of Catholic clergy, including the enforced separation of young boys from their families while training to be priests, an overblown sense of superiority bestowed upon those who would be priests and a complete lack of acknowledgement or understanding about key aspects of being human, such as sexuality and emotional connection.  Through Tom’s eyes, Clarke brings to light the great injustices and suffering that have been the result of such a regime, both for those within the clergy and those who have been impacted forever by the actions of clergy members.

Allow me to share with you one of the most telling lines of the book for me, in which Tom reflects on the constant nighttime crying of the youngest kids at the seminary:

“…it was part of our training, our formation: for us there was no use crying because no one would ever come to comfort us.  Like soldiers, we were being taught to have no pity for ourselves, and even then the edge of it struck me: that if you had no pity on yourself, how could you have it for other people, ever?”

My Lovely Frankie, page 119

Once again, although I found the book absorbing and thought-provoking and bang-on accurate in its setting and atmosphere, I am still struggling to see how this will appeal to a contemporary audience of teenagers.  Perhaps if any of you give it a go, you’ll let me know your thoughts?

Until next time,

Bruce

The Deadly Perils of Social Media: Friend Request…

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friend request

Today’s book is a psychological thriller that deftly describes the perils of getting back in contact with people from your past.  We received Friend Request by Laura Marshall from Hachette Australia for review and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

When Louise first notices the new girl who has mysteriously transferred late into their senior year, Maria seems to be everything the girls Louise hangs out with aren’t. Authentic. Funny. Brash. Uncensored and unapologetic. Days into their acquaintance, Maria and Louise are quickly on their way to becoming fast friends.

Decades later, when Maria reaches out over social media, Louise’s heart nearly stops. Long-buried memories quickly rise to the surface–those first days of their budding connection, the awful judgment of the young women who felt at the time like her sole gateway to belonging. The fateful, tragic night that would change all their lives forever.

Her entire adult life, Louise has known if the truth ever came out, she could stand to lose everything. Her job. Her son. Her freedom. Maria’s sudden reemergence threatens it all, and forces Louise to reconnect with everyone she’d severed ties with to get away from the past. Trying to piece together exactly what happened that night, she soon discovers there’s much she didn’t know. The only certainty is that Maria Weston disappeared that night, never to be heard from again–until now.

I will be the first to admit to being reluctant to reconnect on social media with acquaintances from the distant past and this book did nothing to dissuade me from clinging to this anti-social stance with a vengeance.  Louise made some poor choices (as they would be described in today’s school disciplinary lingo) as a high school student and carries immense guilt due to the terrible outcome of a vindictive prank in which she was involved.  Years later, with a child, successful career and recent divorce under her belt, Louise is disconcerted to receive a friend request on Facebook from the victim of her high school stunt, a woman Louise – and all who knew the girl at the time – thought to be dead.  The request sends Louise plummeting back into the insecurities and confusion of her high school-aged self as she is forced to confront her past actions while trying to ensure that her son Henry is untouched by this new danger.

This was a book that I enjoyed while I was reading, but in the end, lacked a certain something.  There is certainly suspense throughout as we puzzle out with Louise who it might be who has sent the request and the associated questions – why Louise? Why now? – and a mounting sense of dread as Louise’s old school friends come in for a request as well.  The ending, although unexpected, just lacked that heightened sense of terror that I was hoping for, in which I’m flipping pages and trying to read faster and faster to find out if the worst will happen.  Rather, on discovering whodunnit, I had more of a feeling of “Well, that was unexpected!”  The story also has a bit of a double-header in terms of who did what to whom, so the mystery is extended beyond a single reveal.

The author did a good job of providing multiple red herrings with plenty of characters both from Louise’s past and new acquaintances, with something to hide.  The book flicks back and forth between the present and Louise’s final year of high school, during which the turbulent relationship between Louise, Maria and Louise’s girl-idol, Sophie is played out with tragic results. The actions of the fateful leaving party, during which Maria dies – or does she? – are revealed piecemeal throughout the book, so it is quite a long while before the reader has a good grasp of why Louise might be a target for Maria’s posthumous friend request.

Overall, this was an arresting read for the most part and one that I would recommend if you are a fan of contemporary mysteries that feature a bit of murder and suspense.  Reading this one might be a good reminder to check your privacy settings on your social media accounts too!

Until next time,

Bruce

Graphic Novel Double Dip Review: Fears and Fantasy Lands…

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image

You’ll require a nice light, colourful snack to accompany today’s illustrated double dip, in keeping with the theme of dark places and a desire for the light.  Let’s kick off with The Creeps by Fran Krause, being the follow-up anthology to Deep Dark Fears, and which we received from the publisher via Netgalley for review.  Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

A follow-up to the New York Times best-selling Deep Dark Fears: a second volume of comics based on people’s quirky, spooky, hilarious, and terrifying fears. 

Illustrator, animator, teacher, and comic artist Fran Krause has touched a collective nerve with his wildly popular web comic series–and subsequent New York Times best-selling book–Deep Dark Fears. Here he brings readers more of the creepy, funny, and idiosyncratic fears they love illustrated in comic form–such as the fear that your pets will tell other animals all your embarrassing secrets, or that someone uses your house while you’re not home–as well as two longer comic short-stories about ghosts.

Dip into it for… the creeps cover

…another hilarious collection of unexpected yet deep-seated fears, presented in four-frame comic format.  This edition also features two longer fear “stories” that take up a few pages each.  I had just as much fun with this collection as I did with the first and the real beauty of these collections is that, for many of the fears depicted, I was totally unaware I might harbour such outlandish concerns until they were pointed out in comic form.  My two favourites from this collection were the potential horrible circumstances behind how our favourite plush toys come to be, and the deaf ear that we might unwittingly turn to the suffering of peeled vegetables.  I have included both of these below for your perusal.

Don’t dip if…

…you are the suggestible, anxious type and don’t like the idea of having new, hitherto unconsidered fears worming their way into your consciousness.

Overall Dip Factor

I thoroughly enjoyed this book because it simultaneously provokes laughter and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.  I read this in one reasonably short sitting, but as with the first collection, it really is the perfect choice as a coffee table book or to leave in a waiting room for the enjoyment of unsuspecting victims.  Highly recommended.

creeps pic 1 creeps pic 2

Next up we have The Wendy Project by Melissa Jane Osborne and Veronica Fish, which is a YA graphic novel we received from the publisher via Netgalley for review.  Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

16-year-old Wendy Davies crashes her car into a lake on a late summer night in New England with her two younger brothers in the backseat. When she wakes in the hospital, she is told that her youngest brother, Michael, is dead. Wendy — a once rational teenager – shocks her family by insisting that Michael is alive and in the custody of a mysterious flying boy. Placed in a new school, Wendy negotiates fantasy and reality as students and adults around her resemble characters from Neverland. Given a sketchbook by her therapist, Wendy starts to draw. But is The Wendy Project merely her safe space, or a portal between worlds? 

Dip into it for… the wendy project

…a thoughtful and fast-paced graphic novel dealing with themes of grief, loss and the pressure to move on after losing a loved one.  Wendy and her family are involved in a car accident in which her younger brother Michael is killed – although Wendy is certain that she saw Michael fly away from the crash and is therefore still alive.  Understandably concerned, her parents involve Wendy in therapy, in which she is encouraged to keep a visual diary in order to make sense of her thoughts about the loss of her brother.  Despite the heavy subject matter, the author and illustrator have infused this story with magical realism based upon the Peter Pan story.  Different characters, as well as sharing names with characters from Peter Pan, take on characteristics of their fantastical namesakes, culminating in a trip to Wendy’s very own Neverland.  It is through this experience that Wendy comes to terms with who she is now and how her life will change.

Don’t dip if…

…you aren’t a fan of stories based on famous books.  This one does borrow heavily from the Peter Pan narrative, and I will be the first to admit that Peter Pan is one of my least favourite stories (what with Peter himself being the poster boy for man-children everywhere)…but this didn’t put me off as much as I thought it would, and I think the creators of The Wendy Project have achieved a good balance between original story content and content based on the more famous work.

Overall Dip Factor

This turned out to be quite a quick read but one that manages to explore serious themes with some depth despite this.  With a balanced blend of fantasy and real life, the authors have done well to highlight the difficulties that can be faced by young people, and all of us really, in the situation of a sudden bereavement, particularly when, as Wendy is here, there is guilt, be it actual or misplaced, about the circumstances in which their loved one died.  I would recommend this to those who enjoy graphic novels about real life issues told in creative ways.

I am submitting this one for the Colour Coded Reading Challenge 2017 in the final category, because the cover features a plethora of different colours.  You can check out my progress toward that challenge here.

So are either of these your cup of tea (or bowl of nachos)?  Let me know in the comments!

Until next time,

Bruce

 

 

Room, with a Dog: Goodnight, Boy…

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goodnight boy

I’ve got some YA/adult fiction crossover for you today that is highly reminiscent of Emma Donoghue’s Room, in that it features a child imprisoned in a suburban home for reasons that aren’t exactly clear at the beginning.  We received a copy of Goodnight, Boy by Nikki Sheehan from the publisher via Netgalley and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

A tale of two very different worlds, both shattered by the loss of loved ones. Tragic, comic and full of hope, thanks to a dog called Boy.

The kennel has been JC’s home ever since his new adoptive father locked him inside. For hours on end, JC sits and tells his dog Boy how he came to this country: his family; the orphanage and the Haitian earthquake that swept everything away.

When his adoptive mother Melanie rescues him, life starts to feel normal again. Until JC does something bad, something that upset his new father so much that he and Boy are banished to the kennel. But as his new father gets sicker, JC realizes they have to find a way out. And so begins a stunning story of a boy, a dog and their journey to freedom.

I’ve got two separate warring opinions on this book which is making it a little difficult to come to a cohesive overall feeling about it.  Goodnight, Boy is narrated by JC, a teen boy who has been adopted from Haiti by an American couple.  The story is revealed as JC talks to his dog, Boy, with whom JC is imprisoned in a kennel in the backyard of his suburban home.  As the story unfolds, the reader finds out that JC’s adoptive mother, Melanie is missing, gone away or otherwise absent, for reasons that are also unclear, and that JC’s angry adoptive father is responsible for JC and Boy’s captivity.

If you are hoping, as you read, that the reasons behind JC’s imprisonment will be revealed in a timely fashion, you will be sorely disappointed.  The reasons are not revealed until the very end of the story and by that time I was a bit baffled as to why Melanie thought leaving JC alone with her obviously abusive partner, who had expressed no liking for JC, was a good idea in the first place.  

But I digress.

The main things I enjoyed about this book were the easily readable narrative voice and JC’s descriptions about his childhood in Haiti.  The book has a conversational tone and it is easy to fall into the flow of the words and get caught up in the story, despite the constant interruptions in which JC takes issue with Boy’s doggish behaviour.  Similarly, although often sad, JC’s recounting of his childhood I found to be absorbing and fascinating and revealed much about the factors that have moulded his personality.

The thing that I found difficult about the book was that it didn’t have the shock factor of a book like Room, which dealt with a similar situation, and I felt that without this, something was lacking.  From the beginning of the story it was obvious that something seriously bad was going to happen – or possibly was already happening – but this didn’t pan out in the way I expected and I felt that the ending was a bit of an anti-climax.  Not that I’m unhappy that there was a satisfactory ending for JC and Boy – far from it – but I was hoping for a bit more suspense and emotional turmoil than was delivered.

I think I would have preferred it had the book had a second story thread, narrated by Melanie or her husband, to flesh out some of the issues and heighten the suspense.

Overall I found this to be an interesting read with some original qualities, but it didn’t quite stand out as a stellar story for the reasons I’ve mentioned.

I am submitting this one for the Popsugar Reading Challenge in category #31: a book where the main character is a different ethnicity to you.  You can check out my progress toward all my reading challenges here.

Until next time,

Bruce