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To Sir Phillip, With Love (Bridgertons #5), by Julia Quinn

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To Sir Phillip, With Love by Julia Quinn My rating: 1 of 5 stars When the “Happily Ever After” Feels Like a Moral Hangover This one was supposed to clear the air. Well, it succeeded in making it smell worse. Every single character, and every major aspect of this novel, left me with an uneasy feeling. Eloise Bridgerton is confused, snobby, garrulous, and somehow deeply ambiguous. She runs away from what exactly? Nobody forces her into marriage but herself. After a year of merely exchanging letters, she decides to marry a stranger and be a good, obedient wife. And yet, she also strains toward what might, at the time, have passed for an “independent spinster”. Phillip, meanwhile, basks in his self-sacrificing suffering-husband and widower roles while being emotionally estranged from his two eight-year-old children. The children are neglected, abused, and basically thoroughly traumatised, which Eloise unconvincingly tries to “love away”. Their mother, Phillip’s late wife, looms over the ...
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The Scholar (Detective Cormac Reilly #2), by Dervla McTiernan

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The Scholar by Dervla McTiernan My rating: 5 of 5 stars I flew through “The Scholar”, and it felt like McTiernan sharpened everything that already worked in " The Ruin ", the pacing, the mounting pressure, and the uneasy sense that every answer creates a worse question. Cormac Reilly is pulled into the death of a young woman linked to Galway University and a pharmaceutical dynasty with money, influence, and far too many reasons to want the truth managed. The investigation is the kind I love, official interest, media heat, colleagues second-guessing every move, and the creeping suspicion that the system is designed to protect itself first. What really sells the suspense is how personal it becomes. Cormac’s relationship with Emma Sweeney adds an edge of emotional risk to every decision, and the novel keeps nudging you into uncomfortable questions about bias, loyalty, and what “objectivity” looks like when the stakes are human. The atmosphere is crisp and chilly, even when the...
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Deep End, by Ali Hazelwood

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Deep End by Ali Hazelwood My rating: 4 of 5 stars Ali Hazelwood's " Deep End " had me hooked early: a Stanford platform diver, Scarlett, fighting her way back from an injury, and an Olympic-level swim captain, Lukas, whose devotion to discipline borders on devotional. When an unguarded secret pushes them into an arrangement, Hazelwood lets competence, vulnerability, and desire braid together until the romance feels truly earned. One of the novel’s most important threads is how it treats desire as something to name and negotiate. Lukas’ dominant impulses and Scarlett’s submissive curiosity are explored through explicit communication, boundaries, check-ins, and consent that stays present on the page. Their sexual exploration becomes its own kind of intimacy, a way of learning each other, and of choosing each other. I also greatly enjoyed the tenderness around recovery. Scarlett’s trauma is not a hurdle to clear so the plot can sprint on, it’s something the book sits with...
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Two Can Play, by Ali Hazelwood

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Two Can Play by Ali Hazelwood My rating: 5 of 5 stars This is a quick, spicy, unapologetically nerdy enemies-to-lovers novella, and it works because it keeps the conflict personal, specific, and relentlessly in the same room. » I am as certain of their love as I am of the binary code. « Two rival game studios get pushed into a forced collaboration, and then into a December “team retreat” at a cabin that feels like corporate captivity with snow outside and tension indoors. The heroine is a designer who cares about characters and story; the hero is all action-adventure polish, and she keeps trying to pretend their history is just professional rivalry, when it plainly isn’t. The best part is the slow re-framing of him: the silence that reads as disdain at first, then as restraint, then as something like carefulness. The chemistry is sharp, the humour doesn’t overstay its welcome, and when the emotional turn happens, it feels earned rather than dumped in at the end. My one actual “note t...
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The Ruin (Detective Cormac Reilly #1), by Dervla McTiernan

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The Ruin by Dervla McTiernan My rating: 4 of 5 stars I picked up Dervla McTiernan's “ The Ruin ” wanting a modern police procedural that actually feels like police work, rather than a string of convenient revelations, and this one delivered. It’s set in Galway, it’s wintry, it’s quietly grim without being gratuitous, and it has that satisfying sense of a case tightening like a screw. Better still, it reads like a complete novel, not a “series pilot” padded with placeholders. It’s dark, yes, but it never slides into misery tourism. » I haven't seen Garda Reilly in twenty years.' And somehow that simple truth sounded more like a lie than anything else. « Cormac Reilly is a solid centre of gravity: competent, dogged, and self-aware enough to notice when the institution is trying to steer him towards the easy answer. As the “new man” in Galway (transferred from Dublin), he’s both insider and outsider, which gives the story some welcome tension. People talk to him because he’...
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In Her Own League, by Liz Tomforde

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In Her Own League by Liz Tomforde My rating: 2 of 5 stars She’s the new sole owner of a privately financed sports team. He’s the “field manager” of the team, and for reasons that never feel proportionate, they’re antagonistic until they aren’t. After that we get a lot of workplace-propriety handwringing, plus extremely efficient lust. He: She’s my employer. This cannot be! (But she has “ thick ” legs. I’m drooling!) She: He’s my employee. This cannot be! (But I want him in my fortress of solitude. And elsewhere!) Evil advisory board: This cannot be! She’s, gasp, a woman! This is nepotism, and this job needs a man. (And even the one supposed-to-be good guy on the board literally doesn’t lift a finger to help until it’s safe, and even rewarding, to do so.) The advisory board, which the book itself undercuts early on: “ I don’t technically have to run a single decision by anyone else first. ” Yet we are still expected to treat these men as a meaningful obstacle, even when the broader cu...
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The Island, by Adrian McKinty

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The Island by Adrian McKinty My rating: 2 of 5 stars Bog-Standard Survival, Served With a Side of Pretension This is one of those “family vacation turns nightmare” survival thrillers that runs perfectly well on rails, and that’s exactly the problem: I’ve seen these rails so often that there’s no tension left in them. “The Island” isn’t badly written, and it certainly keeps moving, but it’s moving through a landscape of ideas that has been strip-mined for decades. You can almost hear the genre machinery: chase, threat, escalation, “resourcefulness”, repeat. What really sank it for me is the book’s intermittent insistence on being profound. Every now and then, the prose swells up, as if volume could substitute for insight. Chapter 24 gives us: » Civilization meant nothing here. Perhaps it had always meant nothing. There were no monsters on Dutch Island, but the beast was man, had always been man. « This is not depth, it’s a poster slogan pretending it just discovered human nature. Even...
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