Reviewed by Jaylynn Korrell

A fun-filled and wacky graphic novel for imaginative and silly kids

The snoodles are back! The zoodles are back! The wackadoodle team of Steven Joseph and Andy Case are back with another funny, intergalactidoodle adventure.

Escape from Zoodletraz is the third book in the Snoodles in Space series, which follows members of the Noodleham community on Earth and the inhabitants of other worlds, like the aliens on planet Zoodle. Characters like Frimpy Frumpy Froodle and Whimpy Whiny Woodle have already saved the Earth once, but Zoodlemania isn’t done yet.

Croodle the Grand Roodle, another recurring character from the series, has been noticing the buzzing music scene down in Noodleham, and he’s decided to become a music star on Earth himself. But it turns out, it’s not so easy becoming as popular as mega-superstar Swifty Swoodle.

After Croodle is booed off stage, he comes up with a plan for revenge—which includes kidnapping notable animals on Earth and placing them in Zoodletraz, a high-security prison on an island. This is the story of the inhabitants of Noodleham trying to help those animals escape and to make sure Croodle never does something like this again.

Author Steven Joseph comes with another flurry of fun with this hilarious read-aloud adventure. This guy could throw a doodle into anything, it seems. His imagination, coupled with the perfectly fitting illustrations of Andy Case, make this a goofy wonder of a read. If you’ve got silly, creative kids at home who have graduated from picture books into the world of single-story graphic novels, Escape from Zoodletraz is here to bridge that gap for you. It’s filled with silly and zany vocabulary to make reading aloud a jumbly-wumbly bubble of fun for both you and them. Even when your children start being able to read themselves, they’ll have fun peeking at the little jokes sprinkled here and there, like on the spines of books or in the headlines of a news story.

Did you know that Frimpy Frumpy and Whimpy Whiny “helped remove griddle from the Earth’s oceans, even the wet ones?”

In addition to the silly fun to be had on the page, Escape from Zoodletraz comes with an album. And it rocks? With different singers and styles on nearly every song of the 10-song album, the one constant is that it’s a blast to dance to. The production quality really stands out—these are fully developed noodle-doodle pop hits. The end of the book features a game, a maze, and a coloring page too.

The thing that stands in the book’s way is just the sheer amount of information and characters coming at us from so many directions. It’s a lot to keep track of quickly. Luckily, the illustrations bring characters to life so they become clearer in our minds, but it could still require some flipping back and forth to remember how each character is related to the story. Occasionally, the noodle-doodle language takes precedent over the plot, so some pages are more dedicated to funny-sounding backstory than the escape itself.

This series is growing along with the reader—from picture books to juvenile graphic novels—without ever losing hold of its wacky sense of humor. Joseph and Case make for one hilarious team.

Thank you for reading Jaylynn Korrell’s book review of Escape from Zoodletraz by Steven Joseph! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Chelsey Tucker

Suspenseful sci-fi that provokes questions of morality and tests the convictions of the characters we have come to love.

The Phoenix Elite are back again for a third time in the most exciting installment yet, Prisoner’s Dilemma. After the group publicly defeated the Hitler clones, more secrets surrounding Talos start to burn a deep desire for the truth.

Carlos and Lequoia begin to search all over the globe in hopes of finding the hidden prison that many of the members of the Phoenix Elite remember being at during their childhood. Eventually, they run into trouble and are warned off by warriors in animal masks. Now they have a new set of people to worry about, but it feels like they are on the right track.

While Carlos and Lequoia trek through the jungle, Adam is having a hard time adjusting to being a family man. Not because he isn’t a good husband or father, but because he is struggling with being confined to a wheelchair. He starts to suffer from even higher levels of anxiety and PTSD while questioning his purpose. “He was born the way he was for a reason. His anxious, relentless mind found purpose in the Phoenix Elite, defeating Bricker, dismantling his nuclear arsenal, and stopping Zed’s global insurrection. But was that all?”

Soon after Adam saved the world, video footage of the incident was analyzed. It turns out something remarkable had taken place: Adam shot some sort of energy out of the palm of his hand. The terror of the unknown was fueled by Talos, inciting doubt upon whether the Phoenix Elite will always be heroes and not liabilities. It is a race for the team to discover external and internal truths before they are outsmarted and wiped off the planet.

Each character seems to be in the final rounds of many of their personal battles all before their special talents can be fully harnessed. Everyone’s superpowers reflect their personality and/or point to something special about the person their DNA is sourced from. Two of the best superpowers belong to Carlos and Henrietta.

Carlos Ramirez is a badass doctor who is a clone of the fiery revolutionary Che Guevara. His insatiable thirst for truth and burning corrupt systems to the ground make it no surprise that he can throw fireballs out of his hands. “His fists burst into flames. Fire orbits his hands like ethereal torches, flickering with the wind. He doesn’t feel their heat. Papi told him the fire in his heart would come through his hands. Carlos always thought it meant the work in the ER. Guess not.”

Henrietta Kebe, the current director of the Phoenix Elite, is a clone of the great liberator Harriet Tubman. Entrusted with secrets beyond her zone of comfort, Henrietta often needs to get in and out of situations quickly, which makes teleporting an invaluable and perfect weapon for her.

The shifting perspectives from chapter to chapter add more suspense than we’ve seen previously in the Phoenix Elite series. Clark lets readers in on secrets that certain characters know and other things they don’t know while still keeping the mystery guarded for us until the right time. This book is filled with hard-hitting reveals.

There are times when certain scenes feel rushed, leaving me wanting more of a reaction out of other characters. However, the theme of unveiling secrets is consistent throughout. There are times when you don’t know who to trust or who is telling the truth. While constantly questioning everyone’s motives, you are confronted with the sense that for many of the characters, it could go either way whether or not they will finally get caught in a Talos trap.

Before starting Prisoner’s Dilemma I was excited to get back to the lives of the “Bird Buddies” as Brandon, the resident Benjamin Franklin clone, would say. Without a doubt, C.T. Clark did not disappoint with this one. I’m filled with as much giddy anticipation for the fourth book as I was the third.

This novel could be enjoyed on its own, but with how excellent the first few books are and how much fuller the world is by now because of it, I don’t know why you’d skip them. High school teachers and libraries will appreciate this series’ cross-genre capabilities, and sci-fi lovers with an appreciation of influential history will find it deeply satisfying.

Thank you for reading Chelsey Tucker’s book review of Prisoner’s Dilemma (The Phoenix Elite, 3) by C.T. Clark! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Samantha Hui

A fairy tale where the true magic lies in the possibilities of the human spirit

The Girl Who Came Back to Life, by Craig Philip Staufenberg, transforms the question of what it means to live when everything is falling apart into a layered middle grade fairy tale that reads as both adventure and allegory.

Though filled with danger and loss, the book is ultimately about hope, forgiveness, and the ways grief can act as both a mask for denial and a tool for acceptance. Staufenberg leans into the myth-making tradition of fairy tales so that Sophie’s struggles resonate beyond her individual story. Readers who enjoy darker, more reflective fairytales will find themselves drawn to Sophie’s world. It’s a book that speaks not only to youth but also to older audiences who appreciate stories with moral and emotional depth.

“You must join the steady stream of mourners who pour north at all times to Send their loved ones, unwilling to let their dead wander forever through the cold.”

The novel follows Sophie, a twelve-year-old girl navigating a dangerous world after devastating loss leaves her unmoored. In this world, when someone dies, their spirit wakes in the City of the Dead, where they remain until a cherished loved one Sends them off with a heartfelt goodbye.

But when Sophie’s parents die suddenly, she refuses to let them go. Instead of Sending them, she concocts a plan to travel to the City of the Dead herself and bring them back. Left in the care of her estranged grandmother, Sophie’s complicated relationship with the old woman becomes one of the novel’s central tensions. As she ventures north, Sophie encounters mobs of mourners, desperate travelers, soldiers, and strangers who reveal both the cruelty and the kindness that emerge in times of crisis. These encounters slowly transform Sophie’s understanding of herself and of what it means to say goodbye.

“She showed her granddaughter the delusions people paint over their own eyes to avoid the devastation of loss, of all loss, of any loss, especially those small hits that wound the pride more than the purse.”

What makes the novel so powerful is Staufenberg’s style. His prose is simple yet resonant, echoing the cadences of classic fairy tales while grounding the narrative in very human emotions. At moments, his sentences are clipped and urgent, heightening the sense of danger; at others, they swell into lyrical rhythms that capture grief, longing, and fragile hope. His use of metaphor lends the story the weight of myth, making Sophie’s journey feel timeless while still accessible to middle grade readers.

“Some said the spirits of the dead killed you themselves if you met them with an insincere heart. And still others said the lost ones had chosen to leave with their loved ones, willingly leaving this world behind in favor of the next.”

If the book falters at all, it may be in its pacing. Early chapters return again and again to cycles of hunger, escape, and temporary relief, which may feel repetitive for some readers. Yet this repetition is intentional, mirroring Sophie’s own relentless struggle to survive. Likewise, some chapters are remarkably short, sometimes less than a page long, which can make the story feel fragmented. But these brief chapters also echo the rhythm of a journey broken into small steps, and for many readers, the structure will deepen rather than weaken the experience, immersing them more fully in Sophie’s world.

“When she lived, my daughter brought pain to my heart. After she died, she became a persistent wound I couldn’t heal.”

By the end, Staufenberg’s fairy tale leaves readers both weary and uplifted, as though they have walked Sophie’s long journey themselves. The Girl Who Came Back to Life immerses us in questions of love, grief, and acceptance while never losing its sense of wonder. It is a fairy tale in the truest sense: not about spells or enchantments, but about the human capacity to endure, to let go, and to find meaning in loss.

Thank you for reading Samantha Hui’s book review of The Girl Who Came Back to Life by Craig Philip Staufenberg! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Andrea Marks-Joseph

Treasure-hunting kittens with magical talents go on a purr-fectly action-packed adventure that’s rich in Egyptian history and grounded in middle-school angst.

The Pharaoh’s Catacombs zooms into action with the power and passion of a cat’s midnight zoomies. This is the second book in The Cats of Caylor Academy, but author Karen Bitzer ensures that standalone readers never feel lost or left out. With her skillful prose, we’re immediately invested in the escapades.

From treasure-hunting to life-or-death puzzle-solving, the kittens of Caylor Academy go from magic-school stages to haunted, spellbound caves, making The Pharaoh’s Catacombs unputdownable.

“This was just supposed to be finding some gold and jewels. Simple stuff, right!”

We meet the Caylor kittens about a week before their supervised tour trip to Paris, where they hope to escape their tour guide and find a treasure that’s rumored to be buried in the catacombs with a disgraced Pharaoh.

Upon arriving in Paris, they stumble upon “meowfia” cats who are trembling at the mention of a ghost they say lives in the tunnels. Could this be their legendary Pharaoh, scaring the meowfia away from his treasure? Or is the meowfia head-honcho’s instruction that the Caylor Academy cats carry his boxes into the tombs (because his cats fled in fear) a big trick to take advantage of tourists?

They’re too scared (and too interested in potential leads on their treasure hunt) not to go down into the tombs and find out. And the ghost rushes out into the tunnels to meet them! While they’re running away from his frighteningly powerful magic and “bone-rattling laugh,” the ghost suddenly shouts “Present yourself to your Pharaoh!” potentially proving their treasure hunt true in the most terrifying moment.

Karen Bitzer writes moments of horror (like the ghost Pharaoh describing how he watched his sarcophagus being lowered down into this tomb) with equally compelling brilliance as its spellbinding magic and thrilling adventure.

When they figure out that the ghost is the legendary banished Pharaoh Ramesses VIII, he demands the kittens perform a ritual to release him from the underground purgatory, sending him to the afterlife. While gathering the tools the Pharaoh instructed them to find, the kittens meet a young girl named Bennu, who says she is his slave. Bennu warns the kittens of the Pharaoh’s lies, identifying the ritual as one that will actually bring him back to life! Whether they should believe the Pharaoh or Bennu’s word sparks a fracture in the kittens’ trust of each other; it’s a hairline fracture, fine as a cat scratch, but equally (by which I mean: alarmingly and undeniably) as painful and irritating for them. Perhaps that was Bennu’s plan all along?

“Bennu let the kittens argue amongst themselves. It was entertaining. They were cuter than the human adventurers before them.” She’s right about both of these things. Karen Bitzer writes their sibling-like arguments with humor and heart and casual childish pettiness. But then Bennu continues, presenting an excellent example of the multifaceted magic spell of curiosity, charm, and creepiness that Bitzer continuously infuses and intertwines into the story: “‘It will be a little sad when they fail the quest like the rest’, she thought. ‘But their pelts will make gorgeous decorations on my wall.” Our alarm bells are still ringing about this when another plot-twist reveal turns everything on its head all over again.

I loved that sometimes I’d forget they were cats and not kids, until suddenly they’d scream a loud “high-pitched MEAOOOOWWW!” or yell a frustrated “Furballs!” in a stressful moment when a human child might use a less feline phrase. I loved all the cat-related details like the popular Whisker’s Delight catnip tea, MarvelousMouse Trail Mix snacks, and Christmas being called ‘Crispmouse.’ I loved that they traveled with their friend, Quinn, a sentient quill pen who communicates with the kittens in British Sign Language. I loved that, when the kittens are acting out of sorts, Quinn remarks that his friends “get like this when they had little food and missed their regularly scheduled cat naps.”

The found family vibes between the kittens is strongest when Bitzer leans into a realistic dynamic for their ages: They spend so much time together that they’re attuned to each other’s strengths and weaknesses; they bicker often but are able to shift into teamwork mode when they’re all motivated to. Each kitten is going through a phase of self-discovery about their talents and skill-level, with many questioning their biological family’s stories. There’s a heightened awareness of the scary stage of pre-teen “becoming”—which middle school-aged readers will find highly relatable.

Ramesses taps into Sheba’s anxious desperation to remain accepted by her friends, calling her a “bad kitty” for feeling negative emotions like anger and hate. Knowing how much the adults rely on Sheba to keep the group safe and on the right path, despite being a kitten herself, readers in this same complicated position may feel seen in the pressure that Sheba feels to be good and her belief that she is loved only because of that perceived goodness.

Bitzer writes with compassionate intention for young readers to see themselves (in the true sense, “bad kitty” qualities and most vulnerable thoughts out in the open) in the Caylor Academy heroes. And they are heroes! Not only of the story, but for being brave enough to scold a Pharaoh—while he’s threatening them with ancient evils—for using his power to enslave people, reiterating the scale of his cruelty to his face when he doesn’t seem sufficiently ashamed. The kittens even stage a workers’ rights movement in a blink, strategizing about freeing captive factory workers just seconds after discovering their role in the meowfia’s catnip tea scam.

Domesticated kitten, Tank, knows that his dream school has an ancient policy of non-acceptance for “domestics,” but he doesn’t allow that to dull his determination to apply and impress them: “I have to try. Things don’t change if you don’t try.” This is the same kitten who, in the middle of their spontaneously-extended quest to free the Pharaoh ghost, notices his hunger and realizes he’s grown used to eating every two hours, remarking that “This was the first time he had felt real hunger since leaving his feral life on the streets behind.” Sheba’s nervous habits and worried thoughts are written so naturally and believably. This representation would be great for a reader who shares her experience. As would the patience with which Panther cub among kittens, Ruby, shares breathing techniques with Sheba to help manage her panic attacks.

I’d highly recommend this book for readers who find extensive worldbuilding introductions frustrating—and for readers with shorter attention spans, because the fast-paced adventures keep on coming. The kittens save themselves from increasingly strange and fascinating puzzles built to destroy, distract, and detract them. With its challenges that highlight each of the kids’ skills, The Pharaoh’s Catacombs frequently reminded me of the Dora and the Lost City of Gold movie and the brilliance of their shared historical knowledge shining brighter the deeper into the quest they get.

If you love fun, fantastical adventure books like the Magnus Chase series and films like Jumanji, where the quest is the main story, you’ll enjoy this book. If you love cats, world history, and stories of young people awkwardly adjusting to their natural talents, The Pharaoh’s Catacombs is for you.

Thank you for reading Andrea Marks-Joseph’s book review of The Pharaoh’s Catacombs (The Cats of Caylor Academy, 2) by Karen Bitzer! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Andrea Marks-Joseph

Historical fantasy soars to thrilling, emotional heights in this extraordinary wartime tale of two brave boys protecting their dragon.

We meet lonely, neurodivergent orphan Henry at a really difficult time for both his country and his personal life. In 1940s London, politicians are trying to avoid escalating the war with Germany, while Henry is struggling with sensory overload at the boarding house where he was sent to live, now constantly surrounded by boys who were also suddenly and traumatically separated from their parents.

Author B.T. Skylark writes Henry’s experience of the world with brilliant skill. You feel like you’re in the rowdy dining hall, where “clattering cutlery, scraping chairs, [and] the endless echo of voices layered over voices. The smell of stewed turnips clung to the ceiling, and someone was always humming through their teeth or tapping their knuckles in uneven rhythms.” Even readers who aren’t neurodivergent will understand how dizzyingly overwhelmed Henry is when he explains: “To everyone else, it was just another noisy dinner. To Henry, it was a storm of collisions…Every fork clatter sliced into his skull. Every laugh scraped across his nerves. Someone had spilled gravy, and the smell turned his stomach, thick and oily and wrong.”

On one of his secret evening walks, where he escapes to the stillness of the river Thames for a moment to breathe, Henry finds an egg. Feeling drawn to it, Henry takes the egg home and keeps it warm, but hidden. When the egg hatches, revealing a red dragon that radiates calm and soothing energy, Henry finally feels like he belongs. “Not to the world of rules and punishment and silence. But to the sky. To this moment. To the dragon who had chosen him…”

Henry names the dragon Crimson and quietly keeps him. Unfortunately, his extended disappearances to fish for and feed Crimson don’t go unnoticed. What follows is told from various perspectives: First Henry; then Victor, the loud bully of the cold, chaotic boarding house, who follows Henry to uncover his secret. Agnes is the cruel, controlling boarding house matron, whose stern threats are no cover; she’s eager to report Henry to the government for wrongdoing if she can figure out what he’s up to. We also meet soldiers and politicians involved in the British war effort against Germany. This is how we learn that since choosing to care for Crimson, whispers of dragon sightings have spread across the country, and quiet, careful Henry unknowingly sets a high-stakes political storm in motion. But he wasn’t alone: “I thought if I was loud enough, someone would notice me. But I was always just noise. Henry was quiet, but he meant something. I think I wanted to be like that too.”

While I don’t generally enjoy a bully redemption story, I felt less conflicted with Victor since we don’t see Victor bullying Henry on-page. We meet him as a frightened boy who realizes that he’s been acting out for attention and sees that Henry is special. Victor acknowledges that he wants to be as strong and brave as the quiet, lonelier of their boarding house lost boys. When he finds out what Henry’s been doing with Crimson, he steps in to help, and they become a trio almost immediately.

“We’ll head north. When we’re ready. Somewhere no one looks. Somewhere not even stories go.” In the quiet teamwork of caring for Crimson, the boys form a bond in which they can finally be honest about their tangled emotions. Crimson Wings is the story of these boys committing to their true selves at a time when it can be dangerous to do so—abandoning self-preservation and deciding to protect each other and the dragon.

At first, they manage to hide Crimson in back rooms and abandoned places. As Crimson grows, so does Henry’s certainty that he doesn’t want to stay at the boarding house where he’s been made to feel so different that he worries he’s broken. He wants to go North, to fly high and find a forest dense and quiet enough to keep Crimson safe and himself calm. Victor’s not so sure about this plan, but he wants to be with them. A miscommunication between the boys means that Henry leaves Victor behind—but that doesn’t stop Victor from going on his own mission to reunite with his magical found-family. A tremendous, suspenseful adventure ensues!

The rich historical setting turns Crimson Wings‘s thrilling, urgent, high-risk tale of dragon discovery into an issue of national security. Village playground whispers of dragon sightings turn into a military investigation with international implications. Henry and Victor and Crimson together become an altogether new mythical creature, one that could offer tangible, practical help—if the government reacts appropriately.

This novel reminds us that the government, the army, and the failing boarding house are all made up of individual people who can choose to be honorable and generous toward these kids and make a real, lasting difference. The author reminds us that we can do the same. This is a hopeful book, about choosing to be kind even when it means disobeying orders and defying your role. It gives young people permission to be the best version of themselves, showing the reader that this decision—to lean into the goodness that lies in their hearts, to not shy ahead from what makes them unique—could save the world.

I would recommend this fantasy for an older teenage reader. It dives into dark, heavy themes on both political and emotional levels. The author explores fear, grief, guilt, and identity through Henry and Victor, who are brave and good, despite being told otherwise everyday for years. Emotional and political heaviness collide later in the book, where the boys are thrown into the deep-end of an ongoing, bomb-exploding, village-ravaging war—the responsibility of protecting a dragon (and potentially, the nation) hitting them while emotional turmoil swirls through their thoughts.

At first, Henry reads like his young twelve-year-old self, but later on, when he’s thrust into the dangerous, responsible situations, he suddenly reads like a Young Adult protagonist, maturing overnight under life-or-death circumstances that some younger readers might need historical context and emotional support to navigate.

This book would be great for parents to buddy-read with their neurodivergent kids, inspiring conversations about creating safe places of relief from overwhelming noise in their daily life and about the harrowing day-to-day human impact of world wars. I keep thinking back to the quiet, powerful moment when Victor whispers to Henry, out of the blue: “Do you think they will drop bombs on us?” Henry and Victor’s feelings, fears and coping mechanisms could be a powerful starting point for discussions about both emotional regulation and political views.

Multilayered and magnificent, with an unbelievable amount of heart, Crimson Wings includes some gasp-out-loud (yes, literally!) reveals. The twists and turns are inventive, genuinely surprising, and a joy to read because they’re set in the world B.T. Skylark built. The descriptions are so gorgeous that I’m growing even more desperate for the graphic novel adaptation.

Crimson Wings is a perfect match for teenage fans of How to Train Your Dragon, but it’s so much more: This book will inspire and engage young readers with an interest in—and crucially, an understanding of—war history and what it looks like for regular people. Curious kids will have a thousand questions and learn exciting new facts from B.T. Skylark’s rich historical setting alone. An adventure easily read in an afternoon, this is a tale you’ll hold close, an underdog story about unexpected heroes. This is the kind of book that becomes an heirloom, a family tradition—a precious, powerful journey worth sharing with those you love.

Thank you for reading Andrea Marks-Joseph’s book review of Crimson Wings: The Boy Who Flew by B.T. Skylark! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Peter Hassebroek

Snow, constant daylight, and an irrepressible girl contrast the darkness within a twelve-year-old boy in this charming Middle Grade novel set in Antarctica.

Elliot Blake is a reluctant passenger on an Antarctic Research Vessel, dragged along by his scientist mother who’ll be working on the remote continent all summer. He’s haunted by dreams of a car accident in Albuquerque that took his father’s life, his survivor guilt exacerbated by a harsh exchange just before it happened. The tragedy also fractured the relationship between son and mother. She hopes the extreme change of environment will aid their mutual healing.

The last thing the glum Elliot needs is a gregarious, chatty girl to impinge on his misery. Yet the first person he meets is Olivia Alvarez, a delightful scene stealer also on the bus taking them from the port to the research station. Her father is a scientist and her mother cooks meals for those working at the station. Olivia’s eleven and the only other non-adult.

Naturally, she’s grateful for company closer to her age. Olivia’s also a veteran of the station, accustomed to the isolation, likely knowing what Elliot’s going through. She shows him around, ignoring his silent rebuffs, which prove to be no match for her indomitable spirit and patience:

“Elliot didn’t realize he was smiling until he caught Olivia staring at him with a triumphant grin.

“‘I knew it!’ she exclaimed, pointing at his face. ‘The penguins got you! Nobody can resist the penguins.’”

While he might smile at the penguins, there is still the deeper pain he carries from Albuquerque, amplified by recurring dreams that relive the accident. This is beyond the powers of Olivia’s exuberance or the appeal of penguins. It takes the discovery of a wounded albatross to give Elliot a meaningful purpose, a responsibility. And a distraction from his dark thoughts, because trying to rehabilitate a wild bird is hard work and comes with an uncertain chance of success.

The opening of the novel has unhappy Elliot bracing the Southern Ocean winds on the prow of the ship with his mother beckoning him inside to escape a building storm. It could have opened with a scene at home of Elliot whining and resisting, but inevitably having no choice. Instead, the reader is put right into his situation. His defiance is more succinctly captured in transit, engaging and informing the reader, while also nicely setting up what’s to come.

It gets better with the introduction of Olivia. Her beaming energy, like the landscape around him, is at odds with Elliot’s moroseness. The interplay between these two is terrific. Though he may not have the same in-your-face charisma as Olivia, his personal growth becomes absorbing through the challenges and setbacks of nursing a wild animal back to health.

The adults play functional roles in the story, letting the children play as it were. I did long for a bit more of his relationship with his mother and maybe some more detail on how Olivia came to be Olivia, but these additions also could have diffused the focus on Elliot’s experiences. (Besides, Olivia might warrant a novel of her own. )

Summer Solstice has a lot going for it: fascinating setting, appealing main characters, flawless storytelling, and plenty of charm. Its story is simple, concise, yet with layers that can be explored in subsequent readings. Maybe not to the degree of a proverbial iceberg but enough to make this a book worth buying to keep, rather than merely to borrow and pass on.

Thank you for reading Peter Hassebroek’s book review of Summer Solstice by Kelly Williams! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Samantha Hui

A tender story about family, healing, and the power of rediscovering childhood amidst life’s hardest truths

“I guess some things will grow without tending.”

Family secrets grow like weeds in a garden: no matter how many times we try to pull them out, they always seem to return. But when we confront those secrets and care for ourselves and our families with the compassion of a guardian, rather than the control of a gardener, a beautiful, unruly garden can bloom.

Lisa Gerlits’s Rewilding is a middle grade novel that tackles heavy topics such as depression, abuse, and gaslighting through the lens of an eleven-year-old child. Through the symbolism of rewilding nature, the book invites readers to reflect on their own need for healing and self-care.

“What if my sweet, talkative brother spills all our family secrets?”

Joy is the caretaker for her seven-year-old brother, Ian, shielding him from the harsh realities of their world. Since their father left and their mother’s depression has kept her largely confined to bed or the couch, Joy has taken on the responsibility of looking after Ian, providing for their mother, and guarding their family’s secrets. When the school guidance counselor starts asking questions and the threat of Child Protective Services looms, Joy redoubles her efforts to protect her family. But she’s also hiding a secret of her own, one that has earned her the nickname “Bruiser.”

“‘Rewilding? It’s an attempt to undo the damage humans have done and return the land to nature.’”

When Joy and Ian discover a baby bird in their yard, whom they lovingly name Lady, they embark on a journey that not only deepens their connection to nature but also teaches them powerful lessons about childhood, love, and resilience. In their quest to care for the bird, they form an unlikely friendship with Ezzie, the neighborhood pariah, known for her overgrown yard. In exchange for letting Lady stay with her during the day, the children help Ezzie “rewild” her yard, and in doing so, learn how to “rewild” themselves.

“I need to get on with landscaping our life so that no one will have reason to question what we’re doing.”

Rewilding is a poignant exploration of trauma through the eyes of a child. Joy’s character has been forced to grow up too quickly, shouldering responsibilities that no child should bear. Yet, young readers will relate to Joy’s naivety about her home life. She doesn’t see her situation as unfair or traumatic; she simply feels frustrated and confused. While most coming-of-age stories focus on the transition from childhood to adulthood, Rewilding follows Joy as she regains the wonder and excitement of childhood. The book beautifully reminds readers of the virtues of childhood.

“I think of the food webs we’ve drawn in school, the lines connecting sun to plant to animal to bigger animal. I wonder if there are more lines than we ever thought to draw.”

Throughout the novel, touching illustrations by Savanna Durr bring the story to life. Gerlits’s lush descriptions of Ezzie’s garden, teeming with wildflowers and wildlife, alongside the vivid portrayal of Joy’s inner world—her excitements and anxieties—help make the story feel immersive, as though the reader is right there with the characters. The simple, yet emotionally charged illustrations offer a powerful complement to the narrative, drawing readers even deeper into Joy’s journey.

“‘Oh, don’t get all mopey about it. You did the wrong thing. Now you know better, and you’ll do better.’”

Rewilding is a book full of life—innocent and loving, yet unflinching in its portrayal of grown-up struggles. It’s a story for both children and their parents, especially those who feel the weight of family problems on their shoulders. This novel shows us that children understand more than we often give them credit for. But without truth and guidance, their understanding can twist and turn inward, leaving them to carry burdens that aren’t theirs to bear.

I highly recommend Rewilding to young readers and their parents, as it opens a space for honest conversation about the complexities of family, love, and growing up.

Thank you for reading Samantha Hui’s book review of Rewilding by Lisa Gerlits! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Gabriella Harrison

A grieving queen learns that ruling a kingdom means facing herself as much as her enemies.

The Forged Empire, the third installment in Samantha Gillespie’s The Kingdom Within trilogy, opens in a place that feels safe, even cozy. Meredith is in the palace bakehouse, and for a few pages, there’s the illusion of calm. But that calm doesn’t hold for long. Grief, still fresh from earlier books, begins to settle in again, and what looks like a quiet start quickly becomes something heavier and harder to carry.

Meredith is still mourning. That sadness doesn’t flood the story, but it stays close. It’s felt in her hesitation, her inner monologues, and the way she navigates even small decisions. At one point, she admits, “I know strength is expected of me, and I’m trying…but no matter how hard I fight, every choice I make brings more pain.”

That kind of emotional weight shapes the rhythm of the book. It’s steady and patient, giving Meredith the time to figure things out without rushing her past the things she’s lost.

She’s not just grieving, though. She’s leading—while learning how to. The empire is fracturing, and Meredith’s role as a ruler isn’t something she can ease into. Political threats mount. Trust wavers. Every decision she makes feels like it could split something open. Her relationship with Ethan, her husband and co-leader, doesn’t offer an escape, either. It’s strong, but it isn’t idealized. He’s efficient. Calm. Sometimes that’s comforting. Other times, it stings. “Watching him handle the situation so efficiently makes my inadequacies feel all the more glaring,” Meredith reflects. “Where I flounder, he thrives.”

One of the most tender parts of the novel is her strained friendship with Heloise. They’re both grieving, but they don’t show it the same way. Heloise lashes out. Meredith pulls inward. Their early conversation in a courtyard begins sharp and defensive, but their scenes grow into something quieter and sadder. There’s a shared ache there, even when they can’t say it aloud.

The narrative doesn’t stay rooted in Meredith’s world. When the point of view shifts to Connor (Meredith’s former lover), the tone changes too. His chapters are rougher, more immediate, less about reflection, more about survival. There’s a scene that sums it up well: “Every step is a gamble, the ground littered with shattered weapons, broken shields, and bodies that no longer rise.” That contrast helps. Just as the palace starts to feel like a pressure cooker of alliances and quiet grief, Connor’s chapters cut in with grit and urgency. While the key secondary characters (Krea and Heloise) shape the story through their friction with Meredith, others like the court advisors or staff are lightly sketched. Additionally, while the reflective tone is thoughtful, it sometimes slows the story’s momentum.

Beyond its immersive worldbuilding, The Forged Empire tells a story that is more interested in how people carry their choices than in just what those choices are. It is endearing how Meredith doesn’t pretend to have everything figured out. We see her stumble, question herself, and grow in ways that feel earned rather than rushed.

Samantha Gillespie’s The Forged Empire is an emotionally rich story that centers around a crumbling empire and those who must shoulder the demands of leadership amid rising tension and threats of war to ensure its survival.

Thank you for reading Gabriella Harrison’s book review of The Forged Empire by Samantha Gillespie! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Joelene Pynnonen

A psychological thriller where a final summer in paradise turns into a nightmare

To Laurel Greenleaf, Sutton Island is paradise. The one place she and her family can go where they are not hounded by the press or their ruthless enemies. The place that every summer of her life, she has been able to be free. This summer, though, everything is changing. After this summer, her island will no longer be a retreat and her mother’s plan for her will take her away from what she’s always wanted.

Heirs to the affluent, generous Greenleaf family, Laurel and Olive have their lives mapped out for them before they are even born. More legacy than individuals, the expectation is that they will grow to take over their family’s altruistic but controversial business empire. Exuberant, creative Olive wants to avoid this legacy, forge her own path, and be her own person. Laurel, however, hides in the safety of it, letting it dictate her past, present, and future.

Any choices they have for the future vanish when the latest Greenleaf homeless youth center explodes in the middle of the night. With the building in ruins and Olive missing in the carnage, Laurel is forced to navigate her world alone for the first time in her life. This time there is no safety in staying quiet and following someone else’s plan for her. If Laurel wants to find out what happened to her sister, she will need to step out of the shadows and make a stand.

Dragonfly Down is a taut thriller that twines family drama, mystery, suspense, romance, and a couple of nifty twists to make for an unparalleled read. At heart, this is a Young Adult coming-of-age story about a girl who is too afraid of the past to embrace the future. The writing is lovely and evocative, capturing the depth of Laurel’s emotional turmoil as she tries to navigate the difficult hand she’s been dealt.

There are a lot of elements to this novel that make it work like a finely tuned device. Laurel’s entire life is set up around the premise that the empire her family has created and spends all its time nurturing is more important than anything else. More important than her personal goals, more important than her mental health, more important even than her. This notion is overwhelmingly apparent from the very first pages. As we get deeper into the novel, the reasons that Laurel has for accepting this notion begin to unfold. All of the major elements of this novel work together like cogs to move the story along. Every character, every past event, and every major decision slots into place to slowly reveal the whole picture.

It’s difficult to spend so much of a novel following a main character who does nothing but what others push or pull her to do. The payoff, in this case, is worth it. The beginning of Dragonfly Down is a slow burn but picks up some serious pace as it progresses. As we move through the story, all of Laurel’s choices begin to make a tragic kind of sense.

Dragonfly Down is a novel that deftly shows the highs and lows of being in a dysfunctional, loving family. Masters does a fantastic job of portraying a family unknowingly on the brink of implosion. A sense of impending doom hangs over the novel, creating a tense atmosphere that there is little relief from. This is a careful, skillful psychological thriller that ultimately proves the power of love.

Thank you for reading Joelene Pynnonen’s book review of Dragonfly Down by Annette Masters! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Melissa Suggitt

Wrestling the weight of expectation may be even harder than any opponent in the pit.

The Contender from Delos is a historical fiction standout; one that offers far more than the thrill of ancient sport. It is a striking meditation on identity, resilience, and the weight of myth.

From its opening scenes in the pits of Rome to the sacred Games on Delos, this is a novel that deftly explores the psychological maturation of a young wrestler shaped as much by myth and shame as by physical discipline.

Alexander, the son of a disgraced family, returns home from Rome not in triumph, but in quiet defiance. The truth behind his family’s fall from grace is revealed gradually, deepening both tension and empathy as he fights opponents in the skamma as well as the stigma that binds him and his mother.

Author Leo Carrington captures Alexander’s transformation with remarkable nuance. At first driven by the shallow hunger for personal victory, he grows into a man who understands that true honor lies in loyalty and sacrifice. His path is anything but simple; to win means risking his family’s fragile security, while losing could mean the erasure of his own hard-won identity.

“Life, like wrestling, will test not just your physical strength, but more so your inner resolve… It’s the ability to maintain your character in the face of adversity”.

One of the novel’s greatest achievements is how Carrington uses the world of ancient wrestling not simply as spectacle, but as a crucible of the spirit, where love and loyalty serve as counterweights to vengeance and fear. Alexander’s loyalty to his mother shapes his most difficult choices, even as Maria, the vengeful mother of his rival Dario, seeks to destroy them both. His deepening bond with Zoe offers a rare, luminous contrast to the darkness circling their lives. “You fight for what is right, even when it costs you. That’s why I love you—not just for your strength, but for your heart”.

Carrington’s writing is a perfect match for this material. The dialogue rings true to the ancient setting, and the rituals and atmosphere of Delos evoke both reverence and dread. When Carrington brings us into the skamma pit, we can smell the sharp tang of olive oil and sweat, the grit of dirt ground into bruised skin; the physicality of wrestling is vivid and immersive. The Games are powerfully staged, yet the novel’s most affecting moments occur in quieter spaces: a mother stepping back into the light, a boy becoming a man in the shadow of legend.

Alexander is no simple strongman drawn from legend. He is a young man of striking depth and resilience, one who refuses to be defined by inherited shame or bound by the expectations of others. His fight is ultimately not for glory, but for the right to live with dignity and integrity.

Historical fiction grounded in atmosphere, inner conflict, and moral complexity—The Contender from Delos is richly rewarding all the way through. It is a novel that reminds us that true strength is not found in the body alone but in the choices we make when no one is watching.

Thank you for reading Melissa Suggitt’s book review of The Contender from Delos by Leo Carrington! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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