The Red Queen by Philippa Gregory

The Red Queen My Rating: 4.3

Margaret Beaufort never surrenders her belief that her Lancaster house is the true ruler of England, and that she has a great destiny before her. Married to a man twice her age, quickly widowed, and a mother at only fourteen, Margaret is determined to turn her lonely life into a triumph. 

She sets her heart on putting her son on the throne of England regardless of the cost to herself, to England, and even to the little boy. Disregarding rival heirs and the overwhelming power of the York dynasty, she names him Henry, like the king; sends him into exile; and pledges him in marriage to her enemy Elizabeth of York’s daughter. As the political tides constantly move and shift, Margaret masterminds one of the greatest rebellions of all time—all the while knowing that her son has grown to manhood, recruited an army, and awaits his opportunity to win the greatest prize in all of England.

As with all of Philippa Gregory’s novels, The Red Queen is an engaging and immersive read, offering a fascinating portrayal of 16th-century English royal history within a believable and well-paced plot. Gregory’s writing is excellent—rich, descriptive, and evocative—and she has a remarkable talent for bringing historical events and figures to life.

That said, I found the characters more of a struggle, particularly Margaret Beaufort. She is portrayed as deeply pious yet self-righteous, and I found her quite unlikeable. It was difficult to believe that her mother never prepared her for her future role, making her shock at being married seem implausible. Although Margaret endured a challenging life, she never seemed to mature emotionally or spiritually. She constantly claimed to act out of godliness, yet her actions were clearly driven by personal ambition and self-interest. While I understand that the politics of the time created shrewd, calculating, and manipulative individuals, her constant insistence on “hearing God’s voice”—which, as her husband insightfully pointed out, was really her own desire—became tiresome.

Despite my frustration with her character, I still found the story compelling. Having read The White Queen, it was fascinating to revisit the same historical period from the Lancastrian perspective. Gregory excels at showing how power, faith, and ambition intertwine, and how women—despite the strict confines of their roles—wielded influence in subtle yet significant ways.

Overall, The Red Queen is a well-written and thought-provoking historical novel. While Margaret Beaufort may not inspire much sympathy, her story adds a valuable and contrasting dimension to Gregory’s Cousins’ War series, reminding readers that history is rarely black and white—but rather, painted in shades of ambition, devotion, and human complexity.

The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart by Holly Ringland

My Rating: 2.5

After her family suffers a tragedy, nine-year-old Alice Hart is forced to leave her idyllic seaside home. She is taken in by her grandmother, June, a flower farmer who raises Alice on the language of Australian native flowers, a way to say the things that are too hard to speak.

Under the watchful eye of June and the women who run the farm, Alice settles, but grows up increasingly frustrated by how little she knows of her family’s story. In her early twenties, Alice’s life is thrown into upheaval again when she suffers devastating betrayal and loss. Desperate to outrun grief, Alice flees to the dramatically beautiful central Australian desert. In this otherworldly landscape Alice thinks she has found solace, until she meets a charismatic and ultimately dangerous man.

I seem to be in the minority here, but I didn’t love this book. In fact, I didn’t even like it. None of the characters were particularly likable or easy to connect with. The ongoing, never-ending battles they faced — which were clearly meant to evoke sympathy — just left me feeling frustrated and detached. Their struggles never seemed to end, partly because of their own inane choices.

I was honestly shocked to learn that this story has been made into a movie. I suppose that’s one small mercy — at least all the pain and heaviness could be condensed into a couple of hours instead of the long, drawn-out process of reading the 400 page book.

The only thing I mildly enjoyed was the depiction of the Australian landscape. It was vivid and atmospheric, but sadly, not enough to redeem the overall reading experience.

In short, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart just wasn’t for me. If you’re drawn to dark, tragic family sagas, you might find something meaningful here — but for me, it was simply too heavy, too bleak, and too long.

 

The Revenant by Michael Punke

 My Rating: 4.6

Set in 1823, The Revenant follows the trappers of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company as they endure the brutal realities of frontier life. Among them is Hugh Glass — a seasoned frontiersman and expert tracker. When Glass is viciously mauled by a grizzly bear, he’s left on the brink of death. Two men are assigned to stay behind and tend to him, but when they abandon him instead, Glass is forced to summon an unimaginable will to survive. Driven by sheer determination — and the desire for revenge — he crawls across hundreds of miles of uncharted wilderness.

Based on a true story, this is a raw and incredibly descriptive novel. The grizzly attack scene was so intense and graphic that I honestly questioned whether I could keep going. I’m glad I did. The story that followed was one of remarkable endurance, courage, and unrelenting grit. Hugh Glass’s strength and perseverance were astounding, and the author’s vivid writing brought the harsh realities of early frontier life to life — from encounters with Native tribes to the perils of travel through unforgiving wilderness.

I regret not listening to this one with my husband, Mark — I think he would have really enjoyed it. The Revenant would be an especially great read (or listen) for anyone interested in early American history, survival stories, or rugged adventure tales — particularly men who appreciate a story of endurance and revenge set against the raw beauty and danger of the untamed frontier.

The Exiles by Christina Baker Kline

 My Rating: 3.8

Set in early 1900s London, The Exiles tells the harrowing story of Evangeline, a young and naïve governess whose life takes a tragic turn after she is seduced by her employer’s son. When her pregnancy is discovered, she is dismissed and sent to the infamous Newgate Prison. From there, she is sentenced to “the land beyond the seas” — Van Diemen’s Land, a penal colony in Australia.

On the long and grueling voyage aboard the Medea, Evangeline meets Hazel, a spirited young woman convicted for stealing a silver spoon. Despite their differences, the two form an unlikely bond. Hazel’s knowledge as a midwife and herbalist becomes a lifeline for many aboard the ship, offering glimmers of humanity amid cruelty and despair.

This was a raw and difficult read, filled with heartbreak and injustice. Christina Baker Kline shines a light on the brutal treatment of women and the inhumane realities of the convict transports — a part of history that’s rarely told. While I appreciated learning about this dark chapter of the past, I found this story emotionally heavier and less moving than The Orphan Train. Still, The Exiles is a powerful reminder of resilience, friendship, and the strength of the human spirit in the face of oppression.

⭐ My Take: Worth reading for the history and humanity — but prepare for a somber journey.

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan

Small Things Like These My Rating: 3.5

It is 1985 in a small Irish town. During the weeks leading up to Christmas, Bill Furlong, a coal merchant and family man faces into his busiest season. Early one morning, while delivering an order to the local convent, Bill makes a discovery which forces him to confront both his past and the complicit silences of a town controlled by the church.

This little book truly packs a punch. Though it seems intended to inspire hope, I found it deeply sad and unsettling. Still, that sadness feels necessary — it shines a light on a painful truth that has too often been hidden. Keegan addresses her subject with grace and restraint, writing with a beauty that makes the heartbreak even more real.

It may be a short read, but it lingers long after you finish, reminding us that even the smallest acts of courage can matter, especially in a world that prefers to look away.

The White Queen by Philippa Gregory

 My Rating: 4.4

Brother turns on brother. The throne of England is at stake. The deadly Wars of the Roses have begun...

Philippa Gregory’s The White Queen takes readers deep into one of the most turbulent and tragic periods in English history. At the heart of it all is Elizabeth Woodville — a commoner whose beauty and ambition lead her to secretly marry the young King Edward IV. What follows is a tale steeped in rivalry, betrayal, and the relentless pursuit of power. Yet, beneath all the crowns and conflicts lies a woman trying to protect her family in a world ruled by men and manipulated by fate.

Gregory, as always, writes with her trademark blend of historical detail and storytelling flair. She pulls back the curtain on the women who moved quietly yet powerfully behind England’s throne — queens, mothers, and daughters who shaped dynasties in the shadows. The disappearance of Elizabeth’s two young sons, the Princes in the Tower, remains one of history’s great unsolved mysteries, and Gregory weaves it through the narrative with chilling tension.

That said, The White Queen didn’t capture my heart in the same way The Lady of the Rivers did. Jacquetta and Richard felt alive — vibrant, human, and magnetic. Here, I struggled to connect with the characters. Perhaps it was the endless web of scheming, the repetition of names (so many Richards, Edwards, and Georges!), or the heavy air of ambition that overshadowed warmth.

It’s surprising this was the installment chosen for a television adaptation. While it certainly has the drama and grandeur for the screen, the emotional depth that made The Lady of the Rivers so special was missing for me.

For now, I’m setting the Plantagenets aside — just a short pause. The endless plotting and palace intrigue can be exhausting, but I know I’ll return. Philippa Gregory has a way of pulling readers back into her world of power, passion, and peril. The next time I visit, I’ll be ready to dive back into the tangled roots of England’s royal past.

The Lady of the Rivers by Philippa Gregory

The Lady of the Rivers My Rating: 4.8

When the young and beautiful Jacquetta is married to the older Duke of Bedford, English regent of France, he introduces her to a mysterious world of learning and alchemy. Her only friend in the great household is the duke’s squire Richard Woodville, who is at her side when the duke’s death leaves her a wealthy young widow. The two become lovers and marry in secret, returning to England to serve at the court of the young King Henry VI, where Jacquetta becomes a close and loyal friend to his new queen.

The Woodvilles soon achieve a place at the very heart of the Lancaster court, though Jacquetta has visions of the growing threat from the people of England and the danger of their royal York rivals. Jacquetta fights for her king and queen, as she sees an extraordinary and unexpected future for her daughter Elizabeth: a change of fortune, the white rose of York, and the throne of England…

This novel begins in the time of Joan of Arc and spans more than thirty years, ending in 1461. Gregory captures the dangerous and intricate world of royal courts, where the political scheming and betrayals make today’s politics seem tame in comparison.

It’s a slow build, but that’s part of the magic—you’re gradually immersed in a world of castles, alliances, and plots. The pacing is perfect, drawing you steadily deeper into the lives and ambitions of its characters. Engaging from start to finish, this is historical fiction at its most absorbing. 

The Ghostwriter by Julia Clark

The Ghostwriter My Rating: 4.6

Olivia is in elementary school when a classmate taunts her with, “your dad is a murderer!” She denies it, but the looks on her classmates’ faces tell her they know something she doesn’t.

Years later, Olivia has built a career as a ghostwriter, quietly shaping other people’s stories. On the brink of financial ruin, she’s offered the most personal project of all—her estranged father Vincent’s final book. But it isn’t another horror novel he wants her to write. After fifty years of silence, Vincent is ready to reveal what really happened that night in 1975.

This was an engaging gripping mystery intertwined with family drama and well developed characters. The pages flew by as everything gradually unfolded. Thoroughly enjoyable and I will read more by this author. 

WARNING: Sensitive material

Dead Man's Walk by Larry McMurtry

Dead Man's Walk My Rating: 4.5

As young Texas Rangers, Augustus McCrae and Woodrow Call ("Gus" and "Call" for short) have much to learn about survival in a land fraught with perils: not only the blazing heat and raging tornadoes, roiling rivers and merciless Indians, but also the deadly whims of soldiers. On their first expeditions—led by incompetent officers and accompanied by the robust, dauntless whore known as the Great Western—they will face death at the hands of the cunning Comanche war chief Buffalo Hump and the silent Apache Gomez. They will be astonished by the Mexican army. And Gus will meet the love of his life.

I absolutely love Larry McMurtry’s storytelling. His ability to pull readers into a time and place, with characters so vivid they feel like old friends, is unmatched. Mark isn’t usually big on fiction, but we decided to listen to this one on audio during our commute. Even he had to admit that McMurtry spins an engaging story that keeps you hooked. That said, Mark also pointed out something worth mentioning: it sometimes felt like one bad thing after another kept happening to Gus and Call. The relentless hardships wore on him a bit, though for me, that’s part of what makes McMurtry’s writing so real—life in that world was often brutal and unforgiving.

Overall, I found Dead Man’s Walk to be another shining example of McMurtry’s gift for storytelling. The mix of humor, tragedy, and unforgettable characters makes it worth the read—or the listen.

The Jackal's Mistress by Chris Bohjalian

 The Jackal's Mistress My Rating: 5.0

Virginia, 1864. Libby Steadman’s husband has been gone so long she can scarcely remember the sound of his voice. While she prays he isn’t dead in a Union prison camp, her days are consumed with running a gristmill in the war-torn Shenandoah Valley. When she discovers a wounded Union officer abandoned to die, she faces an impossible choice: let her enemy perish, or risk everything—including charges of treason—to save him.

This novel was absolutely excellent from start to finish. Not having grown up in America, I’ve never known much about the Civil War, but this book had me constantly looking up real historical events and learning as I went. The atmosphere is vivid, the characters deeply likable, and the tension had me on the edge of my seat more than once.

And the ending? I won’t give anything away, but it didn’t disappoint. In fact, I think this might be the best Chris Bohjalian novel I’ve read so far.

Highly recommend!

The Only One Left by Riley Sager

The Only One Left My Rating: 2.5

The Hope family murders shocked the Maine coast one bloody night in 1929. While most people assume seventeen-year-old Lenora was responsible, the police were never able to prove it. Other than her denial after the killings, she has never spoken publicly about that night, nor has she set foot outside Hope’s End, the cliffside mansion where the massacre occurred.

It’s now 1983, and home-health aide Kit McDeere arrives at a decaying Hope’s End to care for Lenora after her previous nurse fled in the middle of the night. In her seventies and confined to a wheelchair, Lenora was rendered mute by a series of strokes and can only communicate with Kit by tapping out sentences on an old typewriter. One night, Lenora uses it to make a tantalizing offer—I want to tell you everything.

This one was a slog. The Only One Left dangles the promise of a gothic thriller, but what you actually get is a drawn-out exercise in manufactured suspense. The structure feels like a rinse-and-repeat cycle: the book gives you one tiny reveal, stretches it for chapters, then hands you another small clue and milks that for all it’s worth. That pattern continues endlessly, testing both patience and interest.

By the time the story barrels into its ending, it abandons even the thin thread of plausibility it had been clinging to. The final twists feel less like shocking revelations and more like the train flying off the rails—wild, unbelievable, and frustrating after so much slow build-up.

If you enjoy thrillers where atmosphere outweighs logic and you don’t mind plot points being dragged out until they snap, you might find something here. Personally, I closed the book knowing that the effort wasn't worth it.

Under The Tulip Tree by Michelle Shocklee

Under The Tulip Tree  My Rating: 4.9

Sixteen-year-old Lorena Leland’s dreams of a rich and fulfilling life as a writer are dashed when the stock market crashes in 1929. Seven years into the Great Depression, Rena’s banker father has retreated into the bottle, her sister is married to a lazy charlatan and gambler, and Rena is an unemployed newspaper reporter. Eager for any writing job, Rena accepts a position interviewing former slaves for the Federal Writers’ Project. There, she meets Frankie Washington, a 101-year-old woman whose honest yet tragic past captivates Rena.

As Frankie recounts her life as a slave, Rena is horrified to learn of all the older woman has endured—especially because Rena’s ancestors owned slaves. While Frankie’s story challenges Rena’s preconceptions about slavery, it also connects the two women whose lives are otherwise separated by age, race, and circumstances. But will this bond of respect, admiration, and friendship be broken by a revelation neither woman sees coming?

I truly enjoyed this book. Having grown up knowing the atrocities of slavery, I had never really considered how the generations immediately following it might have processed that history—or even tried to deny or rewrite it. This story made me stop and think about what it must have been like to live in a time when “we don’t talk about things,” when neighbors’ opinions carried enormous weight, and when the uncertainty of the stock market crash hung over daily life.

What impressed me most was how beautifully the author brought together these different layers of history and perspective. The book doesn’t just tell one story—it gives voice to multiple generations grappling with truth, silence, and identity. It felt very authentic, and the narrative was both moving and eye-opening.

This is one of those novels that lingers long after the final page, because it makes you think about how stories get told—and how many more still need to be heard. I will definitely read more by this author.

When The World Fell Silent by Donna Jones Alward

When The World Fell Silent My Rating: 4.9

1917 Halifax, Nova Scotia, two story lines. Nora Crowell wants more than her sister’s life as a wife and mother. As WWI rages across the Atlantic, she becomes a lieutenant in the Canadian Army Nursing Corps. But trouble is looming and it won’t be long before the truth comes to light.

Having lost her beloved husband in the trenches and with no-one else to turn to, Charlotte Campbell now lives with his haughty relations who treat her like the help. It is baby Aileen, the joy and light of her life, who spurs her to dream of a better life.

When tragedy strikes in Halifax Harbour, nothing for these two women will ever be the same again. Their paths will cross in the most unexpected way, trailing both heartbreak and joy its wake…

When the World Fell Silent is a moving and immersive story that shines a light on a little-known period of Halifax history. I found myself both learning and feeling throughout the pages—history came alive in a way that was both educational and deeply personal.

The characters were well developed and layered, and I quickly found myself invested in their lives. Their struggles and resilience felt authentic, and I could easily empathize with the difficult circumstances they endured. The author has a gift for weaving historical fact with human emotion, giving the reader a sense of what it might have been like to live through such a time.

This book not only taught me about a part of history I had previously known little about, but it also left me reflecting on the strength of the human spirit in the face of hardship. For readers who enjoy historical fiction with heart and depth, this is a story worth picking up.

The Two Family House by Linda Cohen Loigman

The Two Family House My Rating: 4.9

Brooklyn, 1947: in the midst of a blizzard, in a two-family brownstone, two babies are born minutes apart to two women. They are sisters by marriage with an impenetrable bond forged before and during that dramatic night; but as the years progress, small cracks start to appear and their once deep friendship begins to unravel. No one knows why, and no one can stop it. One misguided choice; one moment of tragedy. Heartbreak wars with happiness and almost but not quite wins.

At first glance, The Two-Family House feels like a cozy story of two Brooklyn families sharing one home—one living upstairs, the other downstairs. There’s a sense of intimacy and nostalgia in the setting, and the relationships between the families draw you in right away.

But what begins as a portrait of family life soon deepens into something much more layered. Loigman takes us inside the hearts and minds of her characters, showing how a single decision can alter not only one person’s path but the future of everyone connected to them. The ripple effects stretch across decades, touching marriages, children, and friendships in ways both tender and heartbreaking.

What I especially appreciated was how the novel balanced the predictable with the unexpected. There are moments when you can see a choice coming, and yet the consequences are never as simple as they seem. That complexity made the story feel real—the kind of messiness that defines life itself. Love, secrets, regret, and growth all intermingle as the characters evolve, showing how time can both heal and deepen old wounds.

By the end, The Two-Family House is not just a story about two families under one roof—it’s a meditation on how families are shaped by loyalty, silence, and the courage (or lack thereof) to face the truth. It’s a novel that lingers, because it reminds us how profoundly we are all changed by the choices we make and the ones we don’t. The more I read this author, the more I love her stories. Highly recommend! ♥

The Lightkeeper's Daughters by Jean E Pendizwol

The Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughters My Rating: 3.6

Though her mind is still sharp, Elizabeth's eyes have failed. No longer able to linger over her beloved books or gaze at the paintings that move her spirit, she fills the void with music and memories of her family, especially her beloved twin sister, Emily. When her late father's journals are discovered after an accident, the past suddenly becomes all too present.

With the help of Morgan, a delinquent teenager performing community service at her senior home, Elizabeth goes through the diaries, a journey through time that brings the two women closer together. Entry by entry, these unlikely friends are drawn deep into a world far removed from their own, to Porphyry Island on Lake Superior, where Elizabeth's father manned the lighthouse and raised his young family 70 years before.

As the words on those musty pages come alive, Elizabeth and Morgan begin to realize that their fates are connected to the isolated island in ways they never dreamed. While the discovery of Morgan's connection sheds light onto her own family mysteries, the faded pages of the journals will shake the foundation of everything Elizabeth thinks she knows and bring the secrets of the past into the light.

While The Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughters kept me engaged and eager to discover the outcome, I found some aspects distracting. The frequent and often excessive swearing, from Morgan, felt jarring—especially in contrast to the sweet, elderly Elizabeth. Morgan could have been portrayed as strong, street-wise, or rebellious without relying so heavily on crude language, which seemed unlikely for a teenager in many scenes. Maybe it wouldn't have been so offensive it wasn't on audio where I was constantly hearing it.

Additionally, the story felt a bit long-winded at times and could have benefited from tighter editing. That said, the narrative was compelling enough that I stayed with it until the end. Overall, it’s a mixed experience: frustrating in style, but captivating in plot.